


Though the Heavens Fall

by solarlotus



Category: Being Human (UK), Britchell - Fandom, The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Angst, Bloodlust, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Sex, Vampires, because Britchell, some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:49:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 185,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4277451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarlotus/pseuds/solarlotus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Mitchell didn't die but was banished instead, what if Anders didn't stay in New Zealand after the Gaia episode? What if god and vampire met? Love (and hot sex) ensues, but how can it be happily ever after when Mitchell is still consumed by bloodlust and Anders is the selfish prick he's always been, especially when a malign figure from Mitchell's past turns up, determined to make him her partner in crime again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oh my God, you saved my life

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after the end of Being Human series 3, Mitchell wasn't killed, but sent away instead. He went to London, the Old Ones never appeared. As for Anders, after the episode Bergerbar in series 3, Anders decides he's had enough and decamps to London, persuading Dawn to join him (Ty follows of course). We meet them a year down the line from these events, Mitchell is working in a London hospital. Anders has set up a successful PR business. 
> 
> Thank you to the wonderful Lancette for reading this, correcting my mistakes (any left are all mine) and generally being a great person to discuss the characters and this little universe with. 
> 
> Don't own the characters, I'm just playing with them. The title of this story is taken from Being Human series 3, episode 7, sorry and cheers!

It was cold and damp, a heaviness hung in the air and Mitchell kept his head down, watching the litter flutter lazily in the wind. He hunched his shoulders and pulled his jacket tighter against the cold. He hated days off, days off gave him time to think, time alone. So he was walking aimlessly, he’d walked for miles. Anything was better than sitting in Carl’s flat again, when even making a cup of tea wrenched his heart. He hadn’t made tea for himself in months until he left Barry. That was Annie’s forte, to keep him in hot drinks and hot food. She’d washed his clothes and ironed his bedsheets , she even liked to do his hair. She cared. Cared about him so much, loved and nurtured him. Made him better.

Not anymore.

Mitchell was not worthy of the love and care of someone like Annie, someone pure and good. Hell, he wasn’t worthy of the love and care of anyone. He wasn’t worthy to be walking these streets.

_We shouldn’t be in houses in streets where there’s children._

_You loaded a gun and fired it into a crowd._

He was the bullet, John Mitchell.  

One hundred and eighteen years old. A vampire. Not a human being. A monster. A plague. He would kill again. And again. No matter where he ran he would kill, it didn’t matter what he did, it was as inevitable as sunrise.

Mitchell knew how many people he’d killed. He saw their faces when he closed his eyes. Other vampires lost count, or at least lost count if they reached the number that he had. He’d told Carl one night, his old friend, who was now his only friend. Carl had quickly rearranged his face, but Mitchell had seen the horror. Carl wasn’t even much younger than him, just a lot more successful at staying clean. Or maybe he wasn’t the monster Mitchell was, wasn’t the _legend_ , you didn’t become a legend by one hundred and eighteen for nothing. They feared Mitchell, the other vampires. He’d seen them occasionally, under Waterloo Bridge, outside Kings Cross Station, looking for easy pickings amongst the dregs of humanity.

They saw him too. Saw him, averted their eyes, some fled. He was a killer of kings, not once but twice. He was the infamous John Mitchell of the Box Tunnel Twenty. The man who made a chapter of vampires renounce blood, then wrecked terrible revenge on mankind when he was betrayed. He was friend of werewolves, he killed his maker. They knew not whether he was friend or foe and it terrified them, he terrified them. They were right to be afraid. It was the poor people he passed on this cold, grey Wednesday morning who were fools, they didn’t know who he was, they should be running from him, the monster in their midst.

Mitchell was about to turn and head back home when he heard the woman scream.

‘Stop it, get off!’ she shouted, her high pitched cry piercing the drab hum of the street. ‘Help me! Get off!’

He looked up and saw a blonde woman a few feet in front of him desperately tugging at her handbag, which was being wrenched from her by a thick set youth, black hood pulled forward over his face, a malicious mouth curved in a snarl.

‘Let go, you little bitch,’ her assailant hissed, a knife flicking from his wrist as he spoke.

Mitchell didn’t think, he just moved with a speed and agility that took the youth by surprise when he found Mitchell’s hand around his throat.

‘Leave the lady alone,’ Mitchell said, his anger permeating every syllable.

The mugger was no amateur it seemed, quickly recovering his wits he pointed his knife to Mitchell’s guts.

‘Get off me or I’ll stick this in yer,’ he snarled in Mitchell’s face. Mitchell laughed. He actually laughed. If only dying was that easy for him. He saw the fear in the youth’s eyes. That was meant to frighten people. Mitchell wasn’t frightened.

‘You give that to me, then you run, far far away from here, because if I ever see you again you will wish you’d never been born.’ His voice was low and dangerous. The youth was breathing hard, trying to decide on his next move, the knife was still pressed into Mitchell’s stomach. Mitchell shook his head. ‘You’re not running. Run, I’m your worst nightmare.’ He looked directly into the boy’s eye and let his own eyes turn black, opened his mouth with a low hiss, fangs showing. Oh how he wanted to sink them into that thick neck, tear his tendons and arteries, drink that hot red blood. He moved his head incrementally closer to the now frozen youth’s neck, a snarl.

Now it was a male’s screams that filled the air as the mugger wrenched himself free of Mitchell’s grip and ran, the knife dropping with a metallic thud on the pavement. The boy ran for his life through the crowd, screaming and not daring to look back.

Mitchell retracted his fangs quickly. He turned around to see the blonde woman leaning against a lamp post, tears in her eyes.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked softly. She was shaking, clutching her handbag to her chest. She was a pretty woman, light blonde hair cut into a bob and a turquoise coat which brought out her blue eyes.

‘Thank you,’ she stuttered. ‘Oh my god, you saved my life. Maybe even literally, he had a knife, oh god, he had a knife. And this bag has my phone, my ipad for work, all of Anders’s clients stuff is on it, I mean it’s backed up, but I’ve just been to a meeting with the boat cruise people and there’s all this news stuff –‘

Mitchell put his hand on her arm, smiling softly, she was panicking and babbling. ‘Shushh, it’s alright now, he won’t be back. Take a deep breath. That’s it.’ He smiled kindly as she composed herself, wiping at the corners of her eyes then searching in her big black handbag for a tissue.

‘You were amazing, so brave, that was incredible, I don’t know how to thank you.’

‘Thank you’s enough,’ Mitchell shrugged. It felt good, playing the hero. It reminded him with a sharp pang of Bernie. He wondered how the kid was getting on. Did he hate Mitchell yet?

‘Oh god, I’m a mess,’ the woman babbled. ‘I’m a complete mess and now I’m going to be late back and my boss rang me before and has a million new things for me to do.’

‘Hey, first thing first, you need to get back safely. You’re heading for your office?’

‘Yeah, it’s just round the corner.’

‘I’ll walk you.’ He was pleased to see her smile in gratitude.

‘That is so kind of you, because I’m kind of terrified right now.’

‘No problem. I’m Mitchell by the way.’

‘Dawn, nice to meet you.’ She held out her hand clumsily from under her handbag, which was still clamped to her chest. Mitchell shook it and grinned. ‘Come on then, Dawn, where are we headed?’

‘Just round the corner, JPR, public relations.’

Mitchell offered her his arm as she took a couple of faltering steps, but she politely declined and fell into step beside him.

‘You were amazing, scaring that guy off like that, I don’t know how you did it, but I’m so grateful,’ she said, calmer this time.

‘Guys like that are cowards, if you stand your ground they quickly bottle it,’ Mitchell said easily. Especially if you’re a monster, he thought to himself.

‘Where are you from? You don’t sound local, I’d say Scottish, but I’m terrible with accents.’

‘I’m Irish, but I’ve been in England a while. Lived all over really. How about you? You sound like you’re a long way from home too.’

‘I’m from Auckland, New Zealand. My boss had some kind of crisis and decided he wanted to relocate, and I’d always wanted to travel, so I came with him and he set up a business here. It’s great, I love London, especially now my boyfriend’s here too.’

‘Wow, that’s a big move.’

‘Yeah, but Anders is so great at what he does, we have so many clients. My job is to hold on to them.’

‘Is he not good at that?’ Mitchell asked with a smile, he could imagine the type Anders was, all slick suits and smiles hiding a ruthless streak.

‘Let’s just say his forte is getting business. He loses interest quickly.’

‘In business? That sounds tough.’

‘In everything, clients, women, countries. Oh, I’m making him sound terrible.’ Mitchell laughed. ‘He’s amazing with people. He talks and people just listen.’

Mitchell smiled again, he liked Dawn. And he’d rescued her, one good act. A tiny counterweight to the horrors on his score sheet.

‘Well, this is me,’ she said after a few more minutes chattering away about her boss, who sounded like a slave driver, and her boyfriend, who had just moved here and was apparently in some way related to her boss.

Mitchell looked up at the non-descript, modern glass fronted office building. One of the logos on the door was for JPR, they were on the third floor.

‘Look, why don’t you come up for a coffee, it’s the least I can do seeing as you saved my life. Anders will be on his lunch now.’

‘You just said you had no time for lunch.’

‘I don’t, he does. But today, stuff Anders, I am having my lunch on the sofa, not at my desk, because working and eating is bad for your digestion, especially when you’ve had a shock and Anders can just, he can just,’ she searched for the right word. ‘He can stick it.’ She nodded firmly. There was something about Dawn that appealed, she had a sweet nature, an innocent soul in a cynical world. She reminded him a little of Annie, even though the two women couldn’t have looked more different.

‘Okay, I’ll have a coffee,’ Mitchell smiled. It would be good to get out of the cold and it wasn’t like he had anything to do, any friends or, god forbid, a romance.

He followed Dawn up the stairs and into smart offices, there was a large glass conference table in the middle of the room, a black desk by the door, immaculately tidy onto which Dawn placed her hand bag, and a large leather sofa and glass coffee table in the corner. Behind Dawn’s desk was a bank of smart black wood filing cabinets, printers, the usual array of office equipment. Towards the back of the office there was a glass partition and what was evidently her boss’s desk, messier than Dawn’s, but still less cluttered than the desks at the hospital where Mitchell worked. He thought how expensive and slick this office was, with the JPR logo on the cream walls, the expensive looking bouquets of flowers, the leather chairs. He noticed an open door leading to a kitchenette area, there were two unopened bottles of champagne on the side.

‘Ah, Dawn,’ a man’s voice called out. He had the same accent as Dawn. ‘There you are, where have you been? Now, I have a question for you, if you were going to sleep with a guy on a first date would you bother with a river cruise, or should you skip straight to the drinking?’ As he spoke the man spun round to face them in his large leather office chair. He was fair haired, good looking with blue eyes, an easy smile and dimples, his face lightly covered with stubble. He was dressed in a suit, but the button on his shirt was undone and his tie loose. He was half lying back in his chair with his feet on the desk, waving a brochure with a picture of a boat on the front.

‘Hello, Anders,’ Dawn said, rolling her eyes. ‘I don’t know, I wouldn’t plan that.’

‘Hmmm, well think about it, these river boats are missing a trick I think. Are you going to introduce me to your friend?’ Mitchell felt the man’s eyes upon him. He could see Anders appraising him, noticing his old boots, his unkempt hair and generally scruffy appearance, which was more apparent in this trendy, slick office.

‘Mitchell, this is Anders Johnson, my boss. Anders, this is Mitchell, who saved me from being mugged just now. He was amazing, frightened off a guy with a knife.’

She smiled at Mitchell and looked at Anders, daring him not to be impressed, despite Mitchell’s appearance.

Anders now sitting up properly and was staring at Mitchell, his face now serious. He seemed distracted, focused on Mitchell, it was as if he had barely heard Dawn. Mitchell shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, he was looking at him with a searching gaze that Mitchell didn’t like, it was as if he knew there was more to Mitchell than met the eye.

‘Oh God, Dawn, that’s terrible,’ Anders said, finally pulling his gaze from Mitchell and standing up to give Dawn an awkward hug. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Thanks to Mitchell here I’m fine,’ she answered. ‘A little shaken, but I’ll be fine.’ Mitchell noticed Dawn’s hands were still shaking.

‘Good girl. Because we had loads of calls while you were out.’

Dawn nodded, a resigned look on her face. Mitchell frowned, glancing at her, then Anders. The guy was an arsehole, his concern seemed short lived.

‘The guy was pretty rough,’ Mitchell said, fixing his gaze on Anders. ‘Dawn should probably take some time to recover. Or at least sit down until she stops shaking.’

Anders met his gaze, his eyes were very blue Mitchell noted, his face impassive, then he turned back to Dawn, patted her shoulder and adopted a concerned voice.

‘Quite right, you’ve had a terrible ordeal. We should call the police. Hell, there must be CCTV, they could catch the guy. Where was it?’

‘Just round the corner, outside Wetherspoons.’

‘They’ll definitely have CCTV. Dawn, you take a seat, I’ll call the police. Do you want to call Ty, he’d want to take care of you.’

Dawn nodded and pointed to her desk. ‘I’ll just go let him know.’

Mitchell felt panic rising. ‘You think it’s worth going to the police?’ he asked, trying to sound casual. ‘They won’t catch the guy, they never do. Dawn will just get a load of hassle having to give a statement and it might be, you know, traumatic, to relive it.’

Anders looked puzzled. ‘She was mugged, of course we have to phone the police. Are you in trouble with the law of something?’ Anders asked, his gaze again searching Mitchell in a way that made him really uncomfortable.

‘No, no, nothing like that.’ Well there was that too but vampires had people in the right places to take care of that, mainly he was worried about the CCTV footage. Trust him to turn a good deed into a crisis that could reveal the existence of his species.

‘I had a cousin who was mugged once,’ he lied. Well it wasn’t all a lie, he’d had a cousin, once. She died of cancer in 1954, he’d read her death notice in the paper and hadn’t left the house for a week afterwards. She was the last family member who had known him. ‘She just wanted to forget about it. Police will drag everything up, she’ll have to take loads of time off work,’ he added, trying to appeal to the slave driver in Anders, from the little Dawn had told him it sounded like he could ill afford to lose her.

‘Dawn will be fine,’ Anders said, waving away Mitchell’s concern. ‘But you should hang around, speak to the police, do you want coffee?’ Anders was suddenly attentive, rushing to make coffee in the expensive coffee machine before Mitchell could protest.  

The next hour was spent drinking coffee and chatting to Dawn while they waited for the police. Mitchell had considered running off, but as he saw Dawn tearfully trying to cancel her afternoon meeting he changed his mind. Instead he put his arms around her as she cried, before sitting with her, chatting to her about anything he could think of to take her mind off what had happened.  She liked old movies and seemed less upset when he talked her through recommendations as Anders called their afternoon meetings to cancel. It still surprised him people hadn’t seen Laurel and Hardy, was he that old now? Mitchell smiled softly as Dawn laughed through her tearful sniffs as he told her how great they were. ‘How on earth did you even hear of them?’ she’d asked him. What could he say to that?

Mitchell eventually found himself going through the attack with a thankfully disinterested and time pressed policewoman and sipping a third cup of rather excellent coffee. Anders hovered behind him as he spoke, he seemed determined not to let Mitchell out of his sight, it made Mitchell deeply uncomfortable. Not only that but the policewoman was over heating in the office in her heavy uniform, Anders had for some reason turned the heating on when his brother arrived, and her pulse was racing, the blood close to the skin. Mitchell could hear it, feel it. He knew it was making him appear twitchy and uncomfortable. He tried to keep his cool and rattled off a false address when she asked where she could find him. Not entirely false, he’d lived there before, in 1937.

Finally, the policewoman stood up and Anders showed her out. Dawn was sitting with her boyfriend, Ty, on the sofas, having already given her statement. Ty was apparently Anders’s brother, though they looked nothing alike, Ty was pale skinned and dark haired. Mitchell supposed Ty was a good looking man, though he found himself thinking Anders was better looking, very nice looking in fact. It was just a shame he seemed to be such a dick. Mitchell stood watching Ty and Dawn, rubbing his hands together, feeling really cold in this part of the office, despite knowing Anders had turned the heating on when Ty arrived.

‘Dawn, why don’t you take the rest of the day off,’ Anders suggested, having an apparent change of heart. ‘You’ve had a terrible ordeal.’

Mitchell wondered if it was Ty’s presence that caused Anders’s change in attitude. Ty seemed nice, and far more sincere than Anders.

‘Are you sure?’ Dawn asked.

‘Yes. Ty, take care of her.’

Ty nodded and spoke softly to Dawn as he helped her with her coat, he approached Mitchell before he left.

‘Thank you again, I am so grateful. If anything happened to Dawn I don’t know what I’d do,’ he clasped Mitchell’s hand, shaking it in gratitude. ‘It’s nice to know there’s still decent people in the world.’

‘Our new friend’s quite the hero,’ Anders smirked at Ty. Mitchell shifted uncomfortably again. There was something about Anders that made him nervous, he couldn’t put his finger on it, but he felt Anders knew he’d lied to the policewoman.  Then Dawn thanked him again, giving him a peck on the cheek. God, her neck was so close, her blood. She had such translucent skin, he could see the veins. He pulled back from her quickly and was relieved when she and Ty left and it was just Anders, leaning against a wall staring at him appraisingly.

‘So, was there anything you told that policewoman that was true?’ Anders asked as soon as Ty and Dawn had shut the door.

‘What?’ Mitchell was startled by Anders’s frankness, he had thought he’d done a reasonable job of lying under the circumstances.

‘Please, you were shifty as anything. What have you done? Killed someone?’ Anders laughed. He helped himself to a bottle of beer and tossed one to Mitchell who was still standing on the spot, wondering why the horrible craving for blood he’d had since that policewoman had arrived had disappeared. Hell, he’d had to physically restrain himself when Dawn kissed him, but there was Anders, a living breathing human and Mitchell felt nothing.

‘You’re quiet for a hero,’ Anders continued. ‘Anyway, cheers, to you saving Dawn from the evil clutches of a monster.’ Anders raised his bottle and took a long swig.

Not a werewolf, Mitchell thought, smelt wrong. Definitely not a ghost. So why didn’t he want his blood.

‘Cheers,’ Mitchell said, taking a long drink. It was warmer now, maybe the heating was finally kicking in. He looked at Anders, who was still watching him. ‘How did you know I lied?’ he asked finally, deciding it was pointless to pretend otherwise.

‘You looked really shifty, also, what the hell is a guy like you doing working as a hospital porter?’

‘A guy like me?’

‘Yeah. So, what’s the story?’

Mitchell sighed. Maybe it was time to roll out his usual line. ‘I’ve had problems in the past, with, um, addiction. Police make me kind of nervous.’

‘You’re drinking beer.’

‘Alcohol wasn’t my drug,’ he replied, a small smile on his lips. Oh no, alcohol wasn’t his drug at all. Blood was. So why wasn’t he desperate to rip Anders’s throat out? There was something strange about Anders, and his brother. He hadn’t wanted Ty’s blood either now he thought about it.

‘Ah, a junkie.’

God, this guy was an arsehole. Mitchell wondered what he was still doing there. Was he that lonely and pathetic these days, or was it that, despite himself, he found Anders rather attractive? Christ, how long was it since he had looked at a guy like that? A long time indeed. Mitchell briefly wondered if he remembered what to do. He looked at Anders sprawling himself on the sofa, his trousers were grey and well fitted. Yes, he remembered.

‘So, John Mitchell, what do you really do?’

‘I work in a hospital, mopping the floors.’ Anders laughed and Mitchell scowled. ‘I really do.’

‘Oh Jesus, you’re not joking.’ Anders was still laughing a little. ‘Look, as a thank you for helping Dawn I’ll get you some modelling work or something.’

Mitchell laughed now. Was there ever a more unsuitable model? ‘I’m good thanks.’ He watched Anders shaking his head in disbelief at Mitchell’s words and wondered if Anders was coming on to him.

Anders drained his beer and opened another. ‘So, it was your ambition to work in a hospital mopping floors? Shouldn’t you be a cop or something with your superhero powers?’ Anders asked passing Mitchell a second bottle of beer.

‘I was in the army once,’ Mitchell said with a smile. ‘It didn’t end well.’

‘No?’

‘Trouble with the army is, you have to go to war.’ Mitchell took a swig, there was something that wasn’t right, he felt different with Anders.  He still didn’t want to rip his throat out, even with the annoying questions. And it wasn’t just because he was attractive. Oh god, Mitchell he thought to himself, you can’t fancy him. He’s an idiot, and besides Mitchell had proven he couldn’t do relationships.  On the other hand it had been so long, far too long since he’d felt the warmth of someone’s lips on his, or the comfort of being in someone’s arms.

Anders put his bottle down and sat beside Mitchell on the sofa and looked into his eyes. When he spoke again it was with a deeper, more melodic voice.

‘Now, why don’t you tell me why you lied to the policewoman, what your real name is and where you really work? Then maybe we can go for a beer, and if you’re that way inclined, maybe more.’

Mitchell sat slightly stunned. Part of him inexplicably wanted to do what Anders was suggesting, a bigger part of him wanted to know what the fuck this Kiwi guy thought he was playing at.

‘What the fuck was that?’ Mitchell asked, his face half way between puzzled and disgusted. ‘Did you hit on me? Or were you testing out your Jedi mind powers?’

Anders backed away immediately, red in the face, but staring at Mitchell intently. Mitchell stared back. Not a werewolf, definitely not a ghost, almost certainly not another vampire, though there was a tiny chance. But there was something different about this man, something that set him apart.  

‘What are you?’ Mitchell asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. As he asked the same words tumbled out of Anders’s mouth. They looked at each other, wary, but curious.

‘Vampire,’ Mitchell admitted, sighing and leaning back on the sofa.

‘Vampire?’ Anders asked, laughing. ‘Oh god, that is…Jesus, you’re not joking. What, really?’

‘Yeah,’ Mitchell replied, annoyed. ‘What the hell are you? You’re not a werewolf, or a ghost.’

‘Of course I’m fucking not, I’m a bloody god! Bragi, Norse god of poetry.’

Now it was Mitchell’s turn to laugh. ‘You? You’re a god? Look, I’m one hundred and eighteen years old, I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff, but never a walking, living god. And certainly not one like you.’

‘You’re questioning me? Okay, Mr Vampire man, how come you’re out in daylight, not hidden in a coffin or drinking my blood?’

‘Oh that coffin thing’s a myth,’ Mitchell said, waving his hand dismissively. ‘And I don’t want your blood, that’s how I knew there was something, well, different about you.’

‘What?’ Anders looked confused.

‘You’re not like other people.’ Mitchell sighed. ‘Can I smoke?’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Anders said, not bothered, only wanting to hear more about vampires. Mitchell fiddled with his tobacco, rolling up a cigarette and lighting it before continuing.

‘I crave blood, all vampires do, all the time. Everyone I meet, I notice their veins, I can hear their pulse. I want their blood. But not you.’

‘Don’tcha fancy me?’ Anders smirked. Mitchell found himself blushing.

‘I don’t want your blood, because you’re not fully human.’

‘So you drink blood, right? That’s gross.’ Anders shuddered. ‘I fucking hate blood. No offence, but ugh.’

Mitchell shook his head. ‘I don’t, not anymore. I mean, I do occasionally, but in a safe way. So most of the time I don’t, I’m clean.’ He mumbled the last words, they were not strictly true. He thought of his and Carl’s scheme, it was working so far. No deaths.

‘You’re a fucking vampire, but you don’t drink blood? You’re a worse vampire than we’re gods. Why don’t you just drink blood?’

Mitchell looked at Anders incredulously. ‘Because it kills people,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to kill any more people.’

Anders stopped and stared at Mitchell, now entirely serious. ‘You killed people?’

Mitchell nodded, casting his eyes downwards. He felt dirty admitting it. How did this alleged god not know that’s what vampires did, it was what they were. ‘It’s what we are,’ he said grimly. ‘We’re sharks. But I don’t want to be like that.’

‘So you’re not going to kill me?’ He didn’t sound worried, just vaguely amused, he didn’t seem to take it seriously at all.

‘No.’

Anders nodded and watched as Mitchell smoked, using his empty beer bottle as an ashtray. Mitchell felt himself squirming under his gaze. Why did this bloody man have to expose him so quickly? He felt ashamed, he didn’t want to be this thing.

‘Phew, well cheers to that.’ Anders raised his beer bottle.

‘So,’ Mitchell said, dropping the last of his cigarette into the bottle. ‘How did you become a god? Does that give you powers?’

‘On my twenty-first birthday and yes it does,’ Anders replied, sounded rather pleased with himself again. ‘Many generations ago the Norse gods made the, incredibly stupid, decisions to leave Asgard and walk amongst the mortals, I am a decedent of those gods, as are my family. When we turn twenty one we become the living incarnation of a Norse deity, nobody knows who until their birthday. I’m Bragi, my brothers are Ullr, Hodr and Odin, mum was Freya, and dad Njord. Grandpa is Baldar.’

‘But you’re not Norse, how come you’re a Kiwi?’

‘Because the mortals started to persecute us, that’s what, the stupid Jesus freaks and their bible bashing shite. We bravely ran away, to New Zealand, which isn’t so bad actually, because Norway’s fucking expensive.’

Mitchell nodded trying to process all this.

‘I thought you were a god actually, maybe some kind of Celtic god,’ Anders said, still sizing up Mitchell.

‘Me?’ Mitchell was surprised, and intrigued. ‘Why?’

‘When you walked in here, you seemed,’ Anders searched for the right word. ‘Powerful, I could sense something, the same feeling I had when I met really powerful gods and goddesses, like Loki. Not Odin, I mean Axl seems about as powerful as a gerbil, but proper gods. Freya too, before I realised she was mum after being a tree.’

‘What?’ Mitchell asked, starting to laugh. ‘Your mum was a tree?’

‘Yeah, look it’s not funny. She’d had enough of gods, dad shot through when Axl was a baby, so on Mike’s twenty-first she told him he was Ullr, god of the hunt and god of games, then walked off into the forest to become a tree, leaving Mike to raise the rest of us. She came back in another mortal incarnation a few years later. But now she’s a tree again.’

‘Right,’ Mitchell nodded, his mouth hanging open gormlessly.

‘Anyway, when I met you, I could tell there was something. That’s why I didn’t believe you about the hospital shit. I thought you’d used your powers to save Dawn.’

‘I did.’ Mitchell watched Anders sit up in interest.

‘How?’

Mitchell let his eyes go black and showed his teeth, only for a moment.

‘Holy fuck!’ Anders cried out. ‘Shit, you’re really fucking…Jesus!’

‘I did lie about my date of birth too, I was born in eighteen-ninety-four, died in nineteen -seventeen.’

‘Christ.’ Anders looked like shocked now, Mitchell could tell this was the first time he’d actually believed he was a vampire. ‘I need another drink,’ he said as he went to get more beer, opening Mitchell’s bottle for him.

It was liberating in a way, to be honest. He couldn’t remember when he was last in company that didn’t make him crave blood and lie. He took a swig of his beer and decided he’d been wrong about Anders. He was a gobshite for sure, but he was refreshingly non-judgemental. Maybe he’d play along for a bit, plus he wanted to find out about gods, that was a new one on him. He was sure vampires didn’t know there were living incarnations of Norse gods walking the earth. And hadn’t Anders sort of cracked on to him before? Mitchell smiled his most seductive smile, he might enjoy this one.

‘So, what are your powers? Do you know every poem ever written?’

Anders laughed, having recovered himself after Mitchell’s revelation. ‘Fuck no, much cooler. The power of my words bends mortals to my will.’

‘Which means?’

‘People do what I say, I can persuade people of do, or think what I tell them.’

‘Comes in handy for a PR man?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Is that what you were trying to do to me before?’

‘Yeah, well, I had my suspicions, I was testing you.’

‘It was weird, I wanted to do what you suggested.’

‘Not that much obviously.’

‘What normally happens?’

‘If you were mortal, you’d have told me the truth.’

Anders took a swig of his beer and Mitchell appreciated his throat, he watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and wondered if his stubble was the same colour as the rest of his body hair.

‘I’d have given you my phone number too?’ Mitchell sat back and smiled, waiting for Anders to react to that. Dawn had mentioned him having lots of women, but Mitchell had been around long enough to know when a man was making a move on him.

‘If you were that way inclined,’ Anders said going red. He was obviously embarrassed about that one, but didn’t back down.

‘I can be,’ Mitchell said after a pause, enjoying his discomfort after his cockiness earlier. ‘So, you’d have my phone number. Would you have called?’

Anders laughed. ‘Well, as you couldn’t fail to look better out of your clothes than in them, I’d say I would have.’

‘Hey!’ Mitchell was affronted.

‘Look, that may have been in fashion last century, but you’re wearing biker boots with tracksuit trousers, mate.’

‘I’ll have you know I’ve never been knocked back for my style.’

‘Who says I was knocking you back? So do you?’

‘What?’

‘Look better naked?’

Mitchell fixed Anders with his gaze, took a swig from his beer and grinned. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

‘Perhaps.’ Anders came and sat beside Mitchell. ‘Why don’t you and me go for a little drink, I know a nice bar near here. You can tell me all about being a vampire, and I can show you the power of my words. Then,’ he edged closer to Mitchell so their knees touched, Mitchell felt a tingle of excitement go through him. ‘We can see if we can’t find somewhere for you to show me if I’m right.’

‘Right about what?’

‘Right that you look much better out your clothes than in.’ Anders put his hand on Mitchell’s thigh and edged it up.  Mitchell was torn, part of him knew he should put a stop to this, but another part of him wanted Anders, here and now. His hand felt incredibly hot and heavy, he could feel himself hardening as Anders’s hand wandered north. When was the last time? He’d had sex with some of the girls he fed from, but that was blood sex, he didn’t desire them in the slightest, the last time he’d had sex that wasn’t about blood? Daisy? God no, that was all the blood. Lucy. Lucy was the last time. It made Mitchell want to sleep with Anders even more, to erase that memory. The last time with a man? That would be at least five or six years ago, that wasn’t a bad memory. Yes, maybe this was a good idea.  

‘The advantage of wearing jogging pants,’ Anders said, speaking softly close to Mitchell’s face. ‘Is that I can feel how hard you are without undoing anything.’ He let his hand rest on Mitchell’s crotch. Mitchell opened his mouth in a small gasp, he hadn’t expected things to move that fast.

‘Let’s go get that drink,’ he murmured, before making an effort to pull himself together. He stood up, leaving Anders leaning over an empty space and made for the door, knowing Anders was following him and smiling. It was a strange and unexpectedly good afternoon.

~

Anders wasn’t sure where to take Mitchell, he was dressed too casually for the usual haunts, he wondered if a gay bar was too full on, in the end he settled for a pub a couple of streets away, the Queen Charlotte, it was full of dark wood and leather seats, with lots of nooks and crannies in its old, rickety building. He and Mitchell found a table in a corner to themselves and opted to share a bottle of white wine. Anders poured Mitchell a glass and the filled his own.

‘Cheers,’ he said. ‘Or skal as we say in the old language,’ he raised his glass.

‘Cheers,’ Mitchell grinned. Christ he was attractive. Anders didn’t know whether to hate himself for it; the man dressed like some kind of vagrant, he was wearing tracksuit trousers with biker boots and a leather jacket, under his jacket he was wearing a dark checked shirt over a grey vest, which showed plenty of chest hair and some kind of necklace. Worst of all were the gloves, green fingerless gloves which he’d finally removed to reveal several silver rings. He was so far from Anders’s usual type (pretty boys and girls who were as fashionable as they were fickle) it was untrue. But he was also beautiful, far more beautiful than anyone else Anders had ever met. He had longish curly hair that, despite looking like it could do with a wash, framed his face well, and what a face; sharp cheek bones highlighted by rough black stubble on his cheeks and jaw, full red lips that Anders was having some seriously filthy fantasies about and dark hazel eyes that bore into him from under thick eyebrows.  And a vampire, that was a new one.

‘So,’ Mitchell said. ‘What brought you to London?’

Anders sighed, he didn’t want to relive the story of Idunn, it was a fucking disaster, he was doing well over here and Mitchell was too gorgeous to risk appearing like a freak who had no control over their life. ‘Ah, just looking for a new adventure,’ he lied. ‘How about you?’

‘Seemed the natural choice after the war, I couldn’t go home, people would know me. So I came to England, lived in other places, but mainly here.’

‘What war was that?’

‘First World War.’

‘You’re kidding? No, you’re not. Fuck, you’re older than Grandpa.’

‘How old’s he?’

‘Ninety-two, going on twenty-two. He’d Baldr, god of rebirth, so every morning he’s reborn, he ages super slowly. We tell people he’s my cousin. He’s also an oracle, knows stuff. Or not in his case.’

‘Have all your family got powers?’

‘Yeah, mine are the coolest though.’

‘What can they do?’

‘Well, there’s Mike. He’s the oldest, he’s Ullr, god of the hunt, so he can find anything or anyone, no point hiding from Mike. He’s also god of games, so he can win any game he plays.’

‘That sounds really cool,’ Mitchell sounded genuinely impressed. Anders frowned.

‘It would be if he used his fucking powers, he’s so uptight. Anyway,’ he said hurriedly moving on. ‘After me there’s Ty, he drew the short straw, he’s Hodr, god of all things cold and dark. He makes things cold, he can freeze things, it’s not great for the guy.’

‘Is that why you turned the hearing on when he turned up?’

‘Yeah, sucks, doesn’t it? And then there’s Axl, he’s Odin, the all father, sort of king of Norse gods. Which is a joke, having your baby brother be the daddy of the gods, I can tell you. He can barely tie his own shoe laces. He can’t do anything as such, but when he gets his powers, we all get our powers. Full powers that is, not these watered down versions.’

‘How does he get his powers?’

‘Needs to find his Frigg.’

‘His what?’ Mitchell laughed.

‘Odin’s wife, the goddess Frigg, he needs to find her and when they get it on, ka-boom!’ Anders laughed and took a long drink. ‘It’s not going great so far, Axl is kind of a dweeb, nice kid, but not exactly a lady killer, even with my best efforts he struggles to get laid and I can talk anyone into bed.’

‘So is that what you use your superpowers for? Talking women into bed?’

‘I do other things too.’

‘Such as?’

‘Run a PR agency.’

‘And you never feel guilty?’

‘About what?’

‘Talking people into sleeping with you. Isn’t it kind of, umm, well, creepy?’ Mitchell raised his eyebrows, stared at Anders searchingly. Anders sucked in a breath, he didn’t want Mitchell to think badly of him.

‘Look, I can’t make anyone do anything they don’t want to do deep down. Anyway, don’t make out you’ve never done anything morally dubious.’

Mitchell looked at the table and said nothing. Anders took another drink and wondered why he found the man so attractive, he was a mess. But a powerful mess, Anders had felt it the minute he’d walked in with Dawn, it had hit him before he’d even looked at Mitchell and noticed what a good looking fucker he was.

‘So, do you like being a vampire?’ Anders asked, deciding to change the subject, and find out more about the object of his desires.

‘Like it?’ Mitchell looked at him as if he was stupid. ‘How could I like it? I fucking hate it. It’s a curse, a disease.’

‘Whoa, sorry,’ Anders held his hands up. He hadn’t expected that. ‘I thought you might have some cool powers or something.’

‘Cool powers?’

‘Like flying?’

Mitchell looked at him with utter incredulity, Anders could feel his chances of sex slipping away. But then Mitchell laughed, for ages and ages, as if he was mad. Anders laughed with him at first, then stopped and waited for Mitchell to stop laughing, which he eventually did.

‘Wow, I didn’t know I was so funny,’ Anders said drily.

‘Sorry,’ Mitchell snorted, taking a large gulp of wine. ‘I just… can’t fly,’ he hiccoughed a bit, trying not to laugh again with wine in his mouth.

‘So, you don’t have any cool powers. Sounds like being Ty.’

‘Does Ty kill people?’

‘He nearly killed Dawn once. She doesn’t know by the way, mortals can’t know.’

‘He’s lucky. I have killed people. That’s why I hate being a vampire.’ Mitchell paused and drained his glass. ‘I’m immortal, I don’t age, all my friends and family are dead and I have one friend left, I have a shit job, I crave blood all day, every day. If I sate my hunger I will probably kill someone. I see their faces every time I close my eyes, it never stops. I can’t have children, I can’t have lovers, I can’t die.’

Anders didn’t know what to say, so he refilled Mitchell’s glass. It sounded shit, for a god of words he was pretty lost for them right now.

‘Then why don’t you kill yourself? There must be a way. You want to live, or you wouldn’t be sitting here with me now.’ He looked at Mitchell intently, the power he gave off was making Anders skin tingle, it was the same when he first met Colin and his mother, he knew he was in the presence of some serious supernatural shit. Anders was willing to bet that he was no ordinary vampire. Mitchell just shrugged at him. Anders toyed with the stem of his glass. ‘I think you’ve done special things, John Mitchell. You walk around dressed like a tramp, but you’re someone. I could tell the moment I met you. You’re running from something , I should know, I’m doing the same. So, John, who were you?’

‘Nobody actually calls me John,’ Mitchell said with annoyance.

‘What do they call you?’

‘Mitchell.’

‘But your name’s John.’

‘Nobody’s called me that since I joined the army.’

‘I’m not the fucking army and Mitchell sounds like an Australian, I fucking hate Australians.’

Mitchell laughed. ‘I sound Australian? Christ, I’ve never heard that before. Ah, call me what you like,’ he said still laughing. Anders smiled, he liked making Mitchell laugh.

‘So, who were you, _John_?’

Mitchell put his drink down and reached over the table and took Anders’s hand. Anders tensed at the unexpected contact, but let Mitchell’s fingers gently cover and caress his own. ‘I am a legend. I am the killer of kings. I’m a plague and a monster. I made a chapter of vampires renounce blood because I believed we could be human. And when humanity betrayed me I tore my way through them until I lost the thing I loved most in this world. I went to purgatory to bring her back. I am John Mitchell, and every vampire in this city knows my name.’

Anders believed this more than anything else he’d said. It frightened him a little, it turned him on more. He stroked Mitchell’s finger with his thumb, letting the pad run over the top of one of his rings. Anders could feel a knot forming in his stomach, this man was dangerous, but he was attracted to him all the more for it, he couldn’t get up and leave now even if he wanted to. He was also growing hard at Mitchell’s touch.

‘Where is she now? The woman you loved?’

‘She’s with people who deserve her company. I don’t. She found out about something I did and she can’t live with me.’ Mitchell lowered his eyes. ‘She can’t be around me, even though I know she comes and watches me sleep sometimes, she can’t be with me anymore,’ his voice was breaking. ‘Because of what I did.’

‘What do you mean, she watches you sleep?’ That sounded creepy as hell, he didn’t want some psycho ex stalking him if he shagged Mitchell.

‘She’s a ghost,’ Mitchell said softly. Anders opened his mouth but no words came out for once. Jesus, there were ghosts too. He found himself wondering if Helen would come back and stalk him.

‘Ghosts? Fucking hell.’

‘You didn’t know about ghosts?’

‘No!’

‘There’s one over there, see?’ Mitchell indicated a middle aged man on his own with a newspaper and pint by the window.

‘He’s a ghost?’

‘Notice how we’re the only ones who can see him?’ Mitchell nodded in acknowledgement at the man they were looking at, who spilt some of the drink he wasn’t drinking in astonishment at the recognition. Mitchell smiled, at this and the dumbstruck look on Anders’s face.

‘You said you can’t have lovers, is that why? Your ex ghostie girlfriend stalks you at night?’

Mitchell rolled his eyes. ‘No, I think she’s stopped coming anyway, she hasn’t been for about three months. She didn’t know I could feel her there, I thought I was dreaming at first, but she was there. I was sure when she started folding my clothes like she used to. One night I called out to her, she vanished and I haven’t seen her since. As for the other, I can’t have lovers because I can’t be trusted. It was how I... a way to get blood.’

Anders nodded, he understood now, Mitchell killed his lovers. The thought made him shiver.

‘But you said you didn’t want my blood?’ Anders said slowly, looking for a way to rescue this situation, which was becoming more unpromising in the shagging stakes since the revelation Mitchell had a ghost ex who stalked him at night and a tendency to leave his lovers as corpses.

‘I don’t.’ Mitchell looked up at him meaningfully.

‘Good, because I’d hate for something to spoil my plans for you. And just to check, if we do, you know, your ex isn’t going to float in and start throwing things at me?’

‘No,’ Mitchell assured him. ‘Though maybe I should give her a call, she might like to watch. Two guys together was one of her fantasies, she made a list, she was into lists.’ Mitchell smiled sadly.

‘You can call a ghost? On the phone?’ Anders had thought this day couldn’t get any stranger.

‘Well she’s at the house. Don’t worry, I promised I’d never contact them again.’

Anders knew he had to change the subject, Mitchell looked unbearably sad, his eyebrows creased as he brooded on whatever had happened to make him such an outcast with people he clearly loved.

‘Well, just to reassure you I have no ex’s who will supernaturally stalk me while I’m having sex. Though I do have a PA who thoughtfully calls me at 8am after she knows I’ve been out to remind me what time I need to be in and is a dab hand at taking awkward phone calls from the clingy ones.’

‘Dawn?’

‘Yeah, she’s an angel.’

‘But Ty’s girlfriend?’ Mitchell raised an eyebrow. Anders knew what he was thinking, everyone wondered.

‘Look, never been there, never would. Dawn’s like family, she’s crew. You don’t screw the crew.’

‘And she knows what you’re like.’

‘What I’m like?’

‘You sleep around? Use your godly powers to talk gullible girls, and boys, into bed. She knows about the boys?’

‘Possibly. They tend to get the whole good old-fashioned, no strings root thing, women are the clingy ones.’

Mitchell laughed. ‘Have you ever had a proper relationship?’

Anders shrugged. ‘Yes, and it was a fucking disaster.’

‘How so?’

Anders took a deep breath. ‘She was shot by a religious nut job on my kitchen floor, then reincarnated as my brother’s girlfriend, which meant I was driven by powers beyond my control to screw my brother’s drippy, whiny girlfriend, which is practically date rape!’

‘Oh the irony,’ Mitchell said shaking his head.

‘What? Oh don’t you start being holier than thou, I told you, I can’t and don’t force anyone to do anything they don’t want to do. Look, maybe there’s been times when I’ve gone too far,’ Anders conceded, deciding admitting as much to Mitchell was just about safe seeing as the guy could hardly take the moral high ground after admitting killing people. He thought of Val, and the others and felt a stab of disgust with himself. He knew he could get sex without his powers, it was just harder work, he was lazy and it felt less sleazy than paying. Now he wondered.

‘Anyway, that’s why you left New Zealand? To put a few thousand miles between you and your brother?’

‘Yeah,’ Anders conceded.

‘Who was she?’

‘Who?’

‘The woman!’ Mitchell rolled his eyes. ‘The woman you were in love with.’

‘Love’s a little strong. Lust beyond my mortal control more like it. Helen was Idunn, the beloved of Bragi, Helen is her human form. Anyway, I met Helen, we screwed like you wouldn’t believe, she got all clingy and psycho goddess stalky, then got shot. Now Idunn is also the constant goddess, we need her for her apples of life or some such shit, so she was immediately reincarnated into Gaia, who turned twenty one at the exact time she was shot. Gaia who also happened to be Axl’s drippy girlfriend suddenly became the person I had to shag more than anything in the world. I didn’t even fancy her.’

‘Wow,’ Mitchell said, letting out a low whistle. ‘That’s enough to put anyone off, I’ll give you that. And do you still want this woman?’

Anders squirmed, how did he explain that he’d even tried to stop wanking at one point as he couldn’t bear to think of her, those intrusive images and thoughts.

‘She’s in America, travelling. I think about her, but only because she’s Idunn. I preferred Helen. It’s her I miss, not Gaia. I wish I could remember her as much as I remember Gaia.’

Mitchell nodded and Anders drained his glass, embarrassed by his honesty. He grinned at Mitchell.

‘Well, that was a bit fucking Oprah. Now, more importantly: top or bottom, do you have a preference?’

Anders smirked as Mitchell spluttered on his drink. ‘As in,’ Mitchell looked around to check nobody was standing behind him. ‘As in sex?’ Anders nodded, a grin on his face enjoying Mitchell’s embarrassment. ‘You’re assuming it’s relevant to you.’

‘John, if it wasn’t you wouldn’t be sitting there. I enjoy both by the way. Aw, did I embarrass the big bad vampire?’

‘You’re very sure of yourself. I still haven’t seen this power of yours in action. For all I know it’s complete bullshit.’

‘Okay, what do you want me to do?’ Anders said, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair, looking at Mitchell, challenging him.

‘I don’t know, umm, get us a free drink.’

‘I don’t abuse my powers to rip off pubs.’

‘Because you can’t?’

‘Because it’s immoral.’

Mitchell scoffed. ‘But using it to get women into bed is sooo moral.’

‘Alright, just to prove to you I can, but we’ll leave a big tip. Come on,’ Anders nodded towards the bar. There was a small counter in their section, round the corner from the main bar, which pleased Anders. He didn’t really want to draw attention to what he was about to do.

‘Hey,’ he smiled when the barman sauntered over to them. Mitchell was at his side, leaning on the bar, looking at Anders in anticipation. ‘I’ll have a glass of champagne, we’re celebrating,’ he added. ‘John, what are you having?’

‘What are we celebrating?’ Mitchell asked, an eyebrow raised.

‘My success.’

‘In that case I’ll have champagne too.’

‘Make that a bottle actually,’ Anders said. ‘Two glasses please.’ He then fixed his gaze on the barman, a hard faced man in his thirties with tattoos creeping out his collar and who looked distinctly unimpressed with Anders. Anders cleared his throat and let Bragi come, he could feel the god within him now, when he spoke again his voice was deeper, melodic and he felt as if he were looking down at the scene, pulling the strings of a puppet. ‘If you could bring it to our table over there, when you set the glasses down can you address my friend here as ‘pumpkin’, it makes him happy. And you’d really like to put this bottle on the house for us. We’ll just be at our table.’

The man nodded and said, ‘this one’s on the house.’

‘Well, thank you.’ Anders said in mock surprise, grinning at Mitchell. ‘Must be my lucky day.’

He walked back to their table and smirked as Mitchell sat down, followed by the barman. ‘There you go, pumpkin,’ the barman said in his gruff voice to Mitchell, setting the glasses down. Anders sniggered, trying and failing to hide his amusement. Mitchell looked slightly gormless again and watched the barman’s back as he walked away, before turning to Anders, no longer able to hide his smile.

‘Pumpkin?’

Anders burst out laughing. ‘Good, wasn’t it?’

‘You’re such a prick.’

‘You’d like to see my prick though.’

‘I could live without it.’

Anders caught Mitchell’s eye as he poured his drink. ‘But why live without something you so desperately want when you don’t have to?’

‘I’m not desperate.’

‘I’ll rephrase then, why live without something you were rock hard for in my office before?’

‘Um, the person on the end of it?’

‘You’re acting like you’re not impressed, but you so are.’

‘It’s impressive. But are you, Anders Johnson? Or are you all talk?’

Mitchell had now fixed Anders with a hungry, intense gaze, his eyebrows creased together. Anders felt like prey, he also felt himself getting hard. He raised his glass.

‘To us, and to our mutual discovery of each other.’

Mitchell raised his glass. ‘Cheers.’ Anders was a little surprised that Mitchell finished his drink in a few mouthfuls. He pulled on his coat and stood up.

‘What are you doing?’ Anders asked, his heart sinking.

‘Do you live near here? Because I live miles away and I really don’t want to wait that long.’

‘I live really close. Wait for what?’

Mitchell leaned in close. ‘In answer to your earlier question,’ he whispered, his face very close to Anders’s, lips barely an inch away. ‘I like to experiment, but tonight…’ he leaned in further, to whisper right in Anders’s ear, so close Mitchell’s lips tickled his ear lobe as his spoke. ‘I want to suck your cock like you wouldn’t believe, then you can do whatever you like to me.’

With that Mitchell planted a soft kiss on Anders’s lips before walking out of the pub, leaving Anders to hurriedly follow him, full of want and embarrassingly hardening. He hadn’t thought it possible that he would want someone so much ever again, not after her, after Idunn. But tonight he was all want and it was stronger than anything he’d felt in a long time, and all the better as it was real, not the result of some preordained destiny he couldn’t fight no matter how much be wanted to. No, tonight he was full of real want, for one John Mitchell.


	2. Don'tcha fancy me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell is reluctant, Anders wants to get laid. It's just sex though, isn't it?
> 
> Thanks again to Lancette for all her help.

Mitchell sighed and looked at the clock. Five past eight, his shift was over, home time. What was the point in that? He’d trudge home, nod at Carl, eat whatever meal Carl had left out for him, reheated in the microwave, then spend the rest of the evening trying to avoid thinking. Vodka was good for that, vodka and his old DVDs until he could fall asleep. Sleep was no rest though, he relived it all, especially if he hadn’t fed for a while. He also relived those horrible final moments with George, Annie and Nina. How George had refused his request and sent him away. How Annie had shakenher head softly and told him she didn’t want him.

‘You cannot come here again, you cannot contact us again,’ George had said.  Or more like Nina had said, George had known what he’d done all along, known what a monster he was from the start. And Annie, she said she couldn’t be with him. Had she ever known him? Sweet Annie, how could he ever have been honest with her? Of course she was repulsed by him, she was a good person.

Still he had Carl, his old friend, sometime lover, though that was far in the past. Carl was the only person he could turn to when he left Wales, the only one who understood the loss of everything and everyone you loved and the utter failure to tame the monster.  Carl had taken him in, held him that first night when he sobbed, his whole body wracked with despair and misery. He hadn’t cried again, he had shut down and become a shell of a man. Carl had promised to help him and he had been true to his word. Abstinence was out, that ended in failure of the worst kind, Carl had killed the love of his life, Mitchell had committed a massacre. If it wasn’t for the powerful clique of Old Ones in London who seemed to have their fingers in every important pie they’d both be in Brazil, fugitives from the law. Turned out if you’re interesting enough to the right vampire (Mitchell) or you were one of their recruits (Carl) you can do almost anything with impunity. Mitchell knew there was a debt owed and one day it would be called, but he and Carl were left alone, for now.

Carl had a new method for feeding: recruiting volunteers online. Not runaways locked in a cellar, or perverts in gimp masks in a dungeon, but ordinary people with a vampire kink. Carl met them online, made them sign a legal document promising their silence, they came over and after some flirting Carl fed from them, usually a wrist or thigh. They seemed to get off on it, got something out of it anyway, Carl’s thirst was sated and nobody was hurt. Carl even had the safeguard of having them come in pairs and handcuffing one of his wrists to the radiator so he could be easily overpowered. Not that he’d ever lost control with his perfect little system.

It was when his shirt was wet with Mitchell’s tears and his oldest friend, the great John Mitchell, was a crumpled, broken wreck in his arms that Carl had made the offer to Mitchell, to share in the spoils of this scheme with him. It was going quite well, word quickly went around the small, select group that the new vampire was not only handsome, but was an easy lay too, which seeing as the main motivation of the men and women they fed from was sexual, was no bad thing. Carl wasn’t overly impressed, but hadn’t asked him to stop, yet. They’d been lovers from nineteen forty-two, until the last of their romantic liaison fizzled out in nineteen fifty-one.  There wasn’t really anything Carl hadn’t seen Mitchell do. Mitchell had always liked to mix his pleasures and it didn’t get much better than blood-soaked sex. He just wished he didn’t hate himself so much after. Still, it was better than killing someone.

And then there was last Wednesday. Last Wednesday Mitchell had saved a woman from being mugged, which somehow had led to one of the most bizarre encounters of his life.

_‘Bragi, Norse god of poetry,’_

_‘Don’tcha fancy me?’_

Anders Johnson, a living reincarnation of the Norse god of poetry and PR man in the mortal realm. Anders, who made Mitchell scream and writhe and feel; feel so deeply and strongly he had wept. It was all Anders, not his blood. Because Anders Johnson wasn’t a mortal man and Mitchell didn’t want his blood.

_‘You want it harder?’_

_‘Yes, John, fucking yes!’_

Mitchell lit a cigarette as he stepped out into the cool evening air, the street lights were already on and he pulled his jacket tighter around himself.  Anders had made him feel warm. He remembered dropping to his knees, making good on his promise to Anders in the pub, he remembered kissing Anders all over, kissing his neck, his chest, licking his inner thighs. Not once thinking about the veins under his skin, not trying to resist temptation, because he didn’t want blood, only Anders. He remembered spreading his legs for Anders, letting this so-called god fuck him, how he’d demanded it harder, always more, until he came hard and for ages, all over his chest and stomach then lay helpless as Anders fucked him until he came, screaming his name, screaming John.

The memory of it made his skin tingle. It was like nothing he could remember. How could he want someone so much without needing to sink his fangs into them? He had hazy memories of the yearning for a young Irish girl he’d loved, for a soldier he’d lusted after in vain before he was turned. But it was so long ago and he’d barely had sex then. To have that and only want the man…it was so intense. Mitchell had buried his face in the pillow as Anders pushed into him a second time, it was all too real, too raw. Anders hadn’t seen his eyes softly weeping as he fucked him, as he made Mitchell come again, doing things with his fingers that Mitchell had forgotten existed. They’d collapsed together afterwards, no words, just two hot, sticky bodies entwined and sated.

Mitchell took a last drag on his cigarette and tried to put it out of his mind. He’d probably never see him again, no point getting hard for him. Mitchell ground his boot onto the stub of his cigarette and sighed. Anders had been kind of funny too, in a cocky way, and the god thing was pretty fascinating. Maybe he shouldn’t have sneaked out like a thief before Anders awoke.

‘Well, look who’s come out at twilight, have you no shame? Total cliché.’

Mitchell’s head snapped up. Leaning against the railings outside the tube station in front of him was a grinning Anders, in a grey suit and dark green shirt, his hair slightly tousled by the breeze, giving away that fact he’d been waiting.

‘Hey,’ Mitchell said, smiling, before quickly rearranging his face. This wasn’t going anywhere, he told himself, even as his eyes skirted Anders’s crotch and noted the tightness of his trousers on the thighs. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, trying to sound disinterested.

‘You were very rude the other day, sneaking off before I could kiss you goodbye. Was it that disappointing?’ Anders pouted a little, looking up at Mitchell, eyes wide.

‘No, no, it was incredible. God, it was amazing. You don’t think that… oh, Christ, no, you were great,’ Mitchell babbled, unable to bear the idea Anders thought he hadn’t enjoyed it.

‘I know I was,’ Anders said, breaking out into a wide grin. ‘You were pretty hot yourself. So, anyway, Dawn and Ty are very grateful to the hero that saved our Dawnsy from danger and wanted to thank you.’

‘That’s sweet, but they don’t have to,’ Mitchell said, embarrassed. If only they knew.

‘So I kindly offered to find you, amazing how I can talk people into giving me personal details in that hospital,’ he said, nodding towards the large white building Mitchell had just left. ‘And give you their gift.’

‘A gift?’

‘Yeah.’ Anders produced two first class train tickets and a folded sheet of paper. ‘There you go.’

‘London Euston to Ulverston? What would I want to go to Ulverston for?’

‘Only the Laurel and Hardy Museum. You happened to let it slip to Dawn that they were the greatest humans in all of history. You’re clearly mad, but if it makes you happy. You did save our Dawn. Actually I think she has a little crush on you.’ Anders sniggered at the last words, clearly pleased with his conquest.

Mitchell stood open mouthed. He could not accept this.

‘I can’t take this,’ he said. ‘I don’t have time… I don’t have…’ he was going to say anyone to go with.

‘Funny, your boss told me you have the next four days off and you never socialise.’

‘You’re like some cute stalker aren’t you?’ Mitchell said, shaking his head, but feeling butterflies in his stomach.  He’d forgotten how much he liked Anders’s smile.

‘So, you going to come?’

‘Where?’

‘To Ulverston with me.’

‘With you?’

‘You want to accompany Ty and Dawn? You think they’d be better company with their chatter about which IKEA bookcase would look best in the living room? I thought after the other night you might prefer my company. Trust me, neither of them are half as much fun as me and they definitely won’t do that thing with their fingers where it makes you-’ Mitchell blushed and gasped, shaking his head fondly as Anders stopped short.

Mitchell grinned in spite of himself, he looked at Anders and opened a folded piece of paper with two e-tickets for the Laurel and Hardy Museum printed on it and a handwritten note.

_Dear Mitchell,_

_I can never thank you enough for your help last week, you’re one in a million. I know this seems like a weird thank you, but you went on about how you were such a fan when we were waiting for the police the other day it seemed like a good present, as I don’t really know anything else about you. I hope you enjoy it and thank you again. Love from Dawn. Xxx_

‘Aw, that’s lovely,’ Mitchell said, genuinely touched. ‘And you just offered to go with me?’

‘I told her you had some gorgeous date to go with.’ Anders fixed him with a mischievous look.

Mitchell grinned and hugged Anders. Was this happy? He hadn’t felt like this in years.

Anders broke their embrace, but kept hold of his jacket collar. ‘It’s a long way, we’ll need to stay overnight. Dawn found a lovely hotel.’

‘Anders, it’s all too much,’ Mitchell protested. ‘I can’t accept this, I didn’t help her for a reward.’

‘That’s not from Dawn,’ Anders said softly, kissing his lips. ‘Don’tcha fancy me, John?’

They were kissing hard and hungry, Mitchell backed Anders under the archway he’d just walked through, the red brick and dark shadows hiding them as Mitchell wrapped his arms around Anders and kissed him like a dying man. Anders was no less enthusiastic in his response, his hands burying themselves in Mitchell’s hair, his crotch grinding into Mitchell’s thigh.

‘Fuck, we need to get home,’ Mitchell breathed as he kissed his way along Anders’s jaw. It was still the same, no blood, just pure want. Anders’s skin tasted so good, he loved the feel of the copper stubble on his lips and tongue.

‘A cab, we need a cab,’ Anders gasped as Mitchell pulled his shirt out from his trousers and touched his warm, bare skin.  Mitchell barely heard, he wanted Anders. He knew what it was now, Anders made him feel human, this was how humans felt having sex. They didn’t think about the blood, or come on some fucked up blood high, they immersed their senses with the feel and scent of skin and hair and flesh.

Then there was the present, Mitchell had no doubt the idea had been Dawn’s, but Anders had tracked him down, using his powers, and wanted to give him all this. It was too much, he didn’t deserve it, he didn’t deserve any of it, but he couldn’t say no. No meant more loneliness and solitude, nothing but his own personal horror show playing in his head all day and night. Anders meant fun and warmth and laughter, it meant astonishment and wonder at the world of gods, it meant a warm, hard body, it meant being called John and hot kisses covering his throat.

Of course he was going with Anders.

 

~

 

Anders watched Mitchell sleeping, head to the side of his seat, his jacket collar turned up. He even looked hot sleeping on a train, damn the man. He was dead to the world as green fields and neat little houses flashed by in the window. It was becoming hard work to keep up, after a whole forty-eight hours together. Anders couldn’t remember ever having spent so much time with a hook up, aside from Helen, who didn’t count as he was under the influence of the cosmos. He especially didn’t keep men around, they should be kept separate, another part of his life. He didn’t care about people knowing, but it was an indulgence, never something he considered part of his real life, of who he was. And yet here he was.

Mitchell had walked into his life and made him rethink everything. A fucking vampire, what the fuck was that about? He hadn’t even properly believed Mitchell until he saw his fangs bared and eyes bleed black. But here was someone who weirdly understood him in a way nobody else did outside of his family. Maybe part of the reason he’d never wanted to settle down was he knew he couldn’t switch off the god part of him the way Mike had in his marriage. He couldn’t and didn’t want to either. That left goddesses, and that was a mixed blessing to put it mildly. But a vampire was a different proposition. No danger to him of course, apparently god blood was too godly for their tastes, but a supernatural, someone who understood what it meant to be apart from the human race, yet part of it. His powers were shit, maybe being a vampire was like a whole species of Tys, potentially deadly but with limited cool powers.  He was a depressing bugger too at times, would stare into space brooding on god knows what, smoking almost continuously, fidgeting with the rings on his fingers.

But there were compensations. The sex obviously. That was fucking incredible, it got better and better. He didn’t really remember much after giving Mitchell the tickets outside the hospital. He’d felt like a total twat of course, practically stalking the guy, telling himself he was doing Dawn a favour. Like fuck he was, Anders wanted more. More of John Mitchell and he’d take any excuse he could to get more. They’d barely made it home the other night outside the hospital, they’d kissed and hailed a cab and been all over each other, he’d told the driver to forget what he’d seen. Then there had been fucking, in his bed, on his sofa, in his bathroom, the bed again. It was incredible and Anders couldn’t get enough.

They’d only just made the train; of course they hadn’t managed the whole trip, hand jobs in the toilets. It had made them both laugh ‘til their sides hurt after. It was ridiculous, but helped them get to the middle of Cumbria, which seemed to contain nothing but sheep, hills and the world’s most boring and weird museum. Thank god Dawn had booked them into somewhere decent; he didn’t even care about the expense. Mitchell had loved the museum though, even if Anders got through it by staring at his arse and thanking the heavens for skinny jeans. He’d also thoroughly tested the fact that vampires’ images couldn’t be captured by trying to photograph Mitchell’s arse all the way round the museum, to constant disappointment, still it passed the time and also made Mitchell laugh. He had a nice laugh, full bodied and good natured. It made Anders feel warm to make him laugh. He wasn’t sure having those sort of feelings was a good idea. Better stick to fucking the guy.

Mitchell stretched and groaned, reaching out blindly in front of him and brushing Anders’s arm.

‘Sorry, was I asleep long?’ he yawned.

‘An hour or so.’

‘I blame you for keeping me up. I need to smoke, why did they get rid of smoking carriages. Where are we?’ he said grumpily.

‘Somewhere between Manchester and London, no stop.’

‘Crap.’

‘You smoke too much.’

Mitchell shrugged. ‘I’ve been smoking for one hundred and four years, never felt better.’

Anders laughed. ‘Alright for some.’

‘That museum was so good, wasn’t it?’ Mitchell said, picking up one of the souvenir books he’d brought.

‘It was unique.’

‘You hated it, because you have no taste. How is it people these days don’t get these guys were geniuses, they were incredible.’

Anders smiled. ‘It was your treat. Next time we do something normal, that I’d enjoy.’

‘Next time?’

‘If you’re nice to me there might be.’ Fuck, there had to be. Anders shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He wanted this guy, he wanted him so badly he ached for it, wanted him so badly he didn’t even think of _her_ when they fucked. There was no way John Mitchell was slipping through his fingers. But play it cool, that was the way to go.

‘Have I been nice to you?’ Mitchell asked with a grin.

‘You’ve been passable,’ Anders replied. ‘But I’m going to have to see some real effort.’

‘You had plenty of effort this morning, sunshine,’ Mitchell smirked, bringing his book up to cover his face and then laughing like a child at something he’d read. Ball back in Anders’ court. It had been exceptional this morning, waking up to a vampire’s lips around his cock was something Anders could get used to.

‘Well, perhaps I could return the favour at some point,’ Anders said, trying to sound casual.

‘You’d return the favour right now under this table if I asked you to,’ Mitchell said, raising at eyebrow and glancing under the table between their seats, assessing the space.

‘Do you think they’d like the show?’ Anders smirked, nodding at a table of elderly women across the aisle. Mitchell laughed and shook his head.

‘I like that you’re actually considering it.’ He put his book down and smiled warmly, Anders felt his stomach do something funny and unfamiliar. Was this what people referred to as butterflies? For fuck’s sake, he needed to get a grip. He just smiled in response, great god of bloody poetry he was.

‘So,’ Mitchell continued. ‘What do you consider a great time?’

‘Going out, getting pissed up, ending up having mind blowing sex,’ Anders said, ignoring the tuts from a woman behind him.

‘Not exactly original but I can work with that. I bet you like all these trendy bars near your flat, where every drink costs at least five quid and everyone stares at themselves in the glass tables.’

‘You have me marked down as a huge wanker? Cheers.’

‘So, tell me your perfect date.’

Anders smiled, then saw the buffet trolley and pleased of the distraction he brought two coffees and made a long show of adding milk and sugar. He watched Mitchell cradling his cup of black coffee in his gloved hands and leaned forward, finally satisfied that his own coffee was as good as it was going to get.

‘I’d like to go out to eat somewhere really awesome, with great food, but not pretentious, none of that crap. And I’d like the person I’m with to be really hot, so hot everyone in the restaurant looks at them and wants to be me. Then we’d go for drinks, and the person would be funny and have great conversation. Then we’d go home and fuck like the world was going to end.  Oh, and they’d appreciate my godliness.’

‘So, it’s about the company, not the destination, interesting. Do you know anyone like that?’

‘Might do.’

‘And these drinks would be in your trendy bars?’

‘Drinks are usually in bars. Trendy is subjective, especially to a man who has just brought a Laurel and Hardy t-shirt and declared it _all kinds of brilliant_ , what does that even mean?’

‘You’re just a kid, no idea,’ Mitchell said, shaking his head, but smiling to himself. Anders smiled back, and felt Mitchell hook their legs together under the table. Mitchell wanted to fuck him again, it was in the bag.

~

They were tired after leaving the train and walked out the station in companionable silence, Anders automatically heading for the taxi rank.

‘I’m gonna get the tube,’ Mitchell said. He was stiff and unsmiling, changed from their easy banter on the train.

‘I can drop you off,’ Anders said.

‘Nah, it’s out your way.’

‘Okay, suit yourself. I’ll call you about next week.’

‘About that. I don’t think it’s a good idea.’

‘What? It’s a brilliant idea.’

‘Anders, thanks for an amazing weekend, it was so kind.’ Mitchell spoke softly and something inside Anders lurched, he felt a little sick. ‘But I can’t see you again. I can’t get into something, I’m not… I’m not good at relationships. I’m not good news, trust me.’

Anders watched Mitchell push his hands in his pockets and lower his eyes. ‘Sorry,’ Mitchell mumbled.

‘Look,’ Anders said, his mind racing. ‘Who said anything about fucking relationships? Relationships suck, all that monogamy and boring bickering over lack of sex. No, I don’t want a relationship, with you or anyone else. Been there, it sucked. She started redecorating my fucking apartment, and you look like you’d have shit gothic taste and I don’t want a bedroom like a teenage emo, so forget the relationship, John. This is not what this is about.’

‘What’s it about then?’ Mitchell asked, his eyes searching, giving away his interest. Anders felt Bragi on his lips, but resisted, he wanted Mitchell to be something real, not a guest of the god within him. He wanted Mitchell to want him, Anders.

‘It’s about having a good time,’ Anders said, getting into his stride now. ‘It’s about having fucking incredible sex, about having a laugh, with no strings, no nagging, no whining phone calls, definitely no redecorating my flat. Don’tcha fancy me, John?’ he said with a wink.

‘But getting involved with me, it brings trouble. I can’t be around people.’ Mitchell creased his eyebrows, but his arms dropped to his sides.

‘Mortals. You can’t be around mortals, I’m not mortal. And we’re not getting involved. We’re agreeing to have more fabulous sex, maybe the odd night out. I don’t want introducing to your friends, you don’t have to show me your coffin and you certainly don’t need to start asking me how I feel about you, or _us_.’

Mitchell smiled, his face was warm and open, but also sad. Anders sighed, he’d said enough, he wasn’t going to beg the bastard.

‘Look, go back to your coffin, get some beauty sleep, then after a boring week mopping floors you can call me for a good time. You have my number.’

Anders gave Mitchell a kiss on the lips, quick and soft. Mitchell grabbed his arm and opened his lips, keeping Anders there. Anders shrugged him off.

‘Bye, John,’ he said as casually as he could, giving him a quick smile before getting in the taxi.

Anders watched Mitchell light a cigarette and take a deep drag before the taxi pulled off into the traffic. He wanted him, he didn’t remember ever wanting someone like this before. It was so liberating, being with someone he didn’t have to pretend with, that he didn’t feel superior to, it was like being with gods. Except he didn’t feel inferior with Mitchell as he did with the other gods. It was strange to Anders, Mitchell couldn’t advance him in any way, he didn’t have money. There was power, oh god, there was power, Anders could feel that from every pore, but it was unclear how this power could ever be of any use, unless he wanted someone killed, and there was Colin if that ever became a necessity. After Helen he never wanted to see another dead body. Anders supposed it was because Mitchell was such a good lay. He didn’t even acknowledge that it was only Mitchell’s smile that he saw when he closed his eyes.

Anders looked in the driver’s mirror to the spot on the pavement where Mitchell was stood smoking as the taxi turned into the traffic, wondering when he’d see Mitchell again.

He looked, but there was nothing.

 


	3. Manscaping is so 90s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell is having nightmares, he's in a bad place. Should he see Anders again or not? Can Carl convince him?
> 
> Thanks again to Lancette for her advice, ideas, proof reading and generally making this fic such fun to write.

The room was stuffy and still smelt of sex and blood. Mitchell was stretched out in the middle of his bed, naked with dried blood smeared over his face and body. He was unaware of his present state, being deep asleep, dreaming. He dreamt of Annie, but she was alive and he was drinking her blood, drinking her dry until she was a dead weight in his arms. Then he dreamt of Josie, when she was young, he was drinking her blood too. Then Nina, before she became a werewolf. There were more, all young women, he killed them all, but in his dreams all he could feel was their heavy weight and the taste of their blood, he dreamed it was Annie’s blood that filled him now, gave him strength. He always returned to Annie in his dreams, returned to fuck her and drink her dry. Two things he’d never been able to do with his ghostly love.

Mitchell’s slumber was being rudely interrupted even as he sunk his fangs into Annie’s neck, he was being shaken awake roughly and a sharp voice was in his ear. He grunted and shrugged the hand away, rolling over to press his hard cock into the mattress looking for friction. He wanted to go back to Annie and her blood.

‘Mitchell, wake up,’ Carl snapped. ‘Get up, this place is disgusting.’

Mitchell groaned and rolled over again. He slowly opened his eyes and the room came into focus. He was lying on top of his bed covers, he could see clothes and furniture strewn over the room, a chair over turned, he could feel the stickiness of blood on his skin, in his hair, his chest hair was matted with crusty dark red. He sat up panicked, looking for Annie’s body, heart racing and feeling sick to his stomach, not Annie, not his sweet Annie.

‘Mitchell!’ Carl shouted now, shaking him.

‘Annie, Annie,’ he mumbled, scrabbling around the bed.

‘Mitchell!’

Mitchell looked at Carl, eyes wide and breathed a sigh of relief as realisation washed over him. Just a dream, it was just a dream.  Another man had already killed Annie, he’d never fucked her, or killed her, or drank her blood. He was breathing heavily and tears stung his eyes.

‘Mitchell, look at the state of you,’ Carl snapped again. Mitchell’s mind was sharpening rapidly now, especially when he sipped the coffee Carl had put on his bedside table. Carl was pissed off at him about something.

‘What happened?’ Mitchell asked, even as the memories returned.

‘You have no control is what happened. Mitchell, you take too much from them. Melissa was out cold for ten minutes.’

Melissa, tall dark-haired, pretty in a gothy kind of way. Melissa who willingly gave her blood, which he gladly took, Melissa gave him her body and he took it, fucking her and sucking from her veins. She’d asked him to bite her breast this time, he’d grinned, fangs bared and did her bidding.

‘Sorry, is she okay?’

‘She went home an hour ago. God, look at you. Mitchell, I didn’t bring you in on this so you could turn every feeding into some kind of orgy.’

‘For God’s sake, Carl, they want it, it’s what they get off on. Even you have to indulge them a bit.’

‘I do what I have to do to ensure our supply. You just like fucking and feeding. You always have.’

Mitchell shrugged. ‘Lots of vampires do. Look, it’s not such a problem, it’s not like you’ve never seen me fuck.’

Mitchell was well aware he was still naked and had, until Carl woke him, been rock hard. He wasn’t in the least self-conscious with Carl. Carl it seemed had got prudish over the years.

‘You also make a mess, look at the state of this room, of you.’

‘Sorry. I’ll clean up.’

Carl sat on the bed, put a hand on Mitchell’s shoulder. ‘I’m worried about you, I’m worried you’re going to lose control. You call out in your sleep, you never see anyone apart from me, you disappear for days and you have no friends. I’ve never known you not to have friends, Mitchell.’

‘I don’t deserve friends. I can’t have a relationship.’

‘Mitchell, I need to ask. When you disappeared last month, did you kill someone?’

‘No!’ Mitchell hadn’t told Carl about Anders. He was ashamed, ashamed to admit he’d allowed himself to have fun. He was also a little apprehensive of having to explain why he wasn’t in danger of killing Anders. Anyway, he wasn’t going to see Anders again, so what was the point? He felt a pang thinking that.

‘Then where were you?’

‘I hooked up with someone, ok?’

‘Vampire?’

‘No, someone else. I’m not seeing him again, so don’t worry.’

‘Did it not go well?’

Mitchell smiled softly and hugged his knees.  ‘It was great, he’s kind of a dick, but I liked him. He’s funny.’ Mitchell smiled thinking of Anders trying to photograph his backside in the museum and berating his phone for failing to capture it. ‘But I can’t do a relationship.’

‘Mitchell, it might do you good,’ Carl said softly. ‘At least to have something casual. Do you have a connection with this guy?’

‘Yeah, I think so. But he’s not really a relationship person either.’ Mitchell smiled again thinking of Anders’ tirade against relationships. He’d texted Mitchell a few times, but he hadn’t replied, there’d been nothing for a week now. Anders had given up. It pained Mitchell, Anders was special, he didn’t want his blood, he felt human again with Anders.

‘You do like him, look, you’re smiling.’ Carl sighed and took Mitchell’s dirty hand in his own. Carl’s hands were always clean, his finger nails were immaculate and neat, he was neatly dressed in black jeans and a black jumper. But he didn’t flinch at Mitchell being naked and dirty, Carl had never flinched at Mitchell, at what he was and did, what they both were and did. ‘Mitchell, you’re not suited to being alone. You’ve never been alone. You’ve always had friends or lovers, even the vampires. Now you have nobody but me and I’m not enough.’

‘You are, you’ve been great, I’d be dead if it weren’t for you.’ Mitchell squeezed Carl’s hand, he meant it. Carl’s expression softened, he’d always had a soft spot for Mitchell, they’d been there for each other at their darkest hours and Carl didn’t forget it was Mitchell who’d showed him there was another way.

‘What was his name?’

‘Anders.’ Mitchell watched Carl’s clean finger absently stroke his own finger, some habits were never broken, no matter how much time passed. Mitchell looked up, ‘He’s good looking and successful and funny, he’s a bit of a dick, but..’

‘He’s great in bed?’

Mitchell laughed. ‘Yeah, he is pretty great. Actually I don’t think I’ve had sex that good since nineteen sixty-two.’

‘I thought you were going to say since me for a moment, which would have been a terrifying.’ They both laughed. ‘You’re worried you’ll kill him?’

‘No, I don’t want his blood.’

‘He’s a vampire?’

‘No.’ Mitchell took a deep breath. ‘Something else.’

‘Werewolf?’ Carl tried to keep his voice even, but there was a note of astonishment and his stroking finger stilled. Carl was like Mitchell, he had no axe to grind with werewolves, but to date one was still a shocker.

‘No. He, um, says he’s a reincarnation of a Norse god.’

Carl looked at Mitchell. ‘What?’

‘I know, but he has powers and I don’t want his blood.’

‘I’ve never heard of such a thing, are you sure?’

‘Yeah, I’ve seen what he can do.’

‘Is he powerful?’

‘In his own way, yes.’

‘But you’re still not interested?’

Mitchell sighed. ‘I’m very interested, but everyone I love gets hurt. Even you, I’m fucking up your little scheme because I can’t control myself. I’m a plague, Carl, I’m a fucking plague. I should flee to the edge of the world like Frankenstein’s monster. There’s something in me, you’re not like me.’

‘Mitchell, I killed the man I loved more than anything, I’m as much a plague as you. It’s what we are. The only way I can live is because I know that it was the monster, not me. You’re not just a monster.’

Mitchell sighed and pulled his hand free to reach for a cigarette, he lit up and took a deep drag.

‘I can’t just get in touch now anyway, I’ve ignored all his texts. He’s given up and he’ll have moved on. He’s a good looking guy, he won’t stick around.’

‘Well, it’s good you got out anyway, you should get out more.’

‘I can’t date ordinary people, Carl. You’ve seen how good I am at separating sex and blood. I can’t just go meet people’

‘How did you meet this Anders?’

‘I saw this woman being attacked in the street, I scared the guy off and walked her back to her office, she was terrified. Anders is her boss, I stayed around for a bit as they were calling the bloody police, anyway, he called my bullshit to the policewoman and it all sort of came out. He also tried to do his thing on me.’

‘His thing?’

‘His power is that he can use his voice to bend mortals to his will. He’s the living incarnation of Bragi, Norse god of poetry. Look.’ Mitchell reached under his bed for a library book, _Norse Mythology_ and opened the marked page, a passage about Bragi. Carl scanned it with a mixture of interest and disbelief.

‘Did he bend you to his will?’

‘Well no, I’m not a mortal, he knew I wasn’t. I knew there was something about him, I didn’t want his blood. Anyway, he showed me on a guy in the pub, he can make people do things.’

‘That’s a dangerous power.’

‘Not really in his hands, I think he uses it mostly to get business, he owns a PR firm, and to get laid.’ Mitchell laughed. ‘I told you he was a bit of a dick.’

‘A bit of a dick who’s dick you’re rather fond of,’ Carl said, arching an eyebrow. ‘Mitchell, I’ve known you a long time, you can’t fool me. You like this guy.’

‘Well, it doesn’t matter anyway.’ He stubbed his cigarette out and ran his fingers through his hair, grimacing at the dried blood. ‘I need to shower.’

‘Are there other Norse gods?’ Carl asked, interest piqued.

‘Yeah, apparently. I really need to shower.’ Mitchell got up and ambled to the bathroom, Carl on his heels. Mitchell ended up showering whilst explaining everything Anders had told him about the gods in New Zealand and his family to Carl, who was perched on the closed toilet seat. Mitchell was starting to feel quite irritable, Carl had always had a habit of following him into the bathroom to continue their chats, Mitchell was convinced it was Carl’s way of checking up on his grooming habits as their chat was punctuated with reminders to use enough shampoo and scrub the blood off his elbows and fingernails. The glower he got when he attempted to skip shaving told him nothing had changed in the last seventy years or so.

‘I’ll do it if you like,’ Carl said, picking up Mitchell’s razor in a determined fashion.

‘Fine.’

‘So, his brothers are all gods. Are there goddesses?’

‘Yes, Anders says they’re all slags and whores.’

‘Charming. Sit down so I can see you properly.’

‘His brother, Odin, has to marry one, Frigg, so they can get their full powers.’ Mitchell sat down on the toilet seat now, facing Carl who was working up a lather of shaving soap before brushing it over Mitchell’s heavy stubble.

‘And who’s Frigg?’ Carl asked, sweeping the razor down Mitchell’s cheek. ‘You should do this more often, it would be easier.’

‘Never got the hang of doing it without a mirror. She’s Odin’s wife. In god world. Anders’ brother’s really young.’

‘So when do they marry?’

‘When they find her, they have no idea who or where Frigg is, or if she even exists.’

‘They don’t sound very godly. Head up.’

Mitchell tilted his chin up as instructed. ‘He has his godly points,’ Mitchell sniggered.

‘Stay still!’ Carl said, trying not to laugh as he swept the razor over Mitchell’s throat.

‘I thought he was very godly.’

‘Yet you ignored his texts. I think you’re a fool. You should have gone and had some fun. You can’t spend the rest of eternity moping in your room and watching TV.’

Mitchell said nothing, Carl was right of course. At some point he would have to move on, at some point he’d have to pull himself together and do something. He couldn’t carry on like this forever, because for him that really could be forever.

‘Maybe we could go out sometime? Instead of just hanging out here.’

‘Call Anders. Look, Mitchell, I’m not dating you again, so you’d better meet some other people. It’s been ages since you had a guy too, call him, make an excuse, ask him for a drink.’

Carl passed Mitchell a flannel and Mitchell buried his face in it, groaning. ‘It’s too late,’ he sighed before chucking the flannel in the sink.

‘You’ll never know unless you call him. Do you want me to do your chest? If you’re going to hook up…’

‘Carl, manscaping is so nineties. Don’t touch it, Anders loved it. Everyone loves it.’

‘So you’re thinking about calling him?’ Carl smiled. ‘I used to tease Dan about having a secret werewolf kink because he liked your chest hair. I promised never to tell you as he was embarrassed. Guess that doesn’t matter now.’ Carl gave a thin sad smile. Mitchell took his hand and squeezed it, there was nothing he could say. Carl cleared his throat, the moment passing. ‘I need to get on, call him, and for God’s sake, clean your teeth.’

Mitchell gave Carl’s hand a final squeeze before he left the room, then stood and picked up his toothbrush, wondering what could possibly serve as an excuse for three weeks silence and thinking about Anders’ dimples.

 

~

Anders sat with his feet on his desk, staring into space as Dawn talked.

‘So, we could go with the Camden firm for the logo, but that means an extra week’s wait for the client, but they’re a much better firm.’

‘Yeah, good idea,’ Anders nodded, not listening to her.

‘Okay, next, we have the launch for the boat cruises on the fifteenth, I’ve sent out the invites to the usual crowd, but we need to chase the agents of some of our celeb invitees, maybe you could have a word?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ he said, absently. That would be easy.

‘You said you wanted classy eye-candy,’ Dawn rolled her eyes and continued through gritted teeth. ‘At the moment you have some kids off Eastenders, someone off Strictly Come Dancing and a maybe from someone of The Only Way Is Essex.’

‘All good, well done, Dawn.’

‘It’s not good, Anders, that is not classy.’

‘Don’t worry, you will sort it as usual.’

‘Anders, are you even listening to anything I’m saying?’

Anders spun his chair round to face Dawn. ‘You’re doing a wonderful job, Dawn,’ Bragi soothed.

Dawn smiled weakly, clicked her pen on and waited for his instructions. ‘Dawn, do you think I look like a relationship kind of guy?’

‘Not really, but I know you.’

‘I look like a fun guy, right?’

‘Yes,’ she gritted out. ‘If you like drinking and casual sex.’

‘How long would you have to be with a guy before you considered yourself in a relationship?’

‘I don’t know, depends on the guy, how we got on, if we had a connection. Is some girl freaking you out?’

‘No, not at all.’

Anders had half wanted to confide in Dawn for weeks, he always wanted to confide in Dawn, but his pride stopped him. He’d given up on John really; he was a strange one, who played footsie all the way home from bloody Cumbria then freaked out walking out the station? He’d sent a few light hearted text messages and heard nothing. He’d given up and was wondering if he should make some kind of move, always deciding against it, lest he come off as desperate in anyway. But he was desperate, he’d tried to outdo himself with taking women home in the last week, even a threesome with two very pretty, blonde, Swedish students hadn’t come close to John Mitchell. Now three calls that had rang off as soon as he picked up in one morning.

‘Is there anything else?’ Dawn asked, rolling her eyes as Anders stared at his phone yet again.

‘Yeah, can you send flowers to that girl from the advertising agency?’

‘Which one?’ Dawn groaned.

‘Redhead, ummm, Emma, no, Emily, oh you know, big tits and big smile.’

Dawn’s frowned and turned on her heel, fuming and about to tell him she wouldn’t when Anders’ phone rang, he answered immediately, his stomach dropping as he saw the name flash up for the fourth time. John.

‘Hi,’ Anders said, trying to sound casual. Fuck his earlier attempts at letting it ring, he wasn’t going to give the bastard time to ring off this time. He could hear rustling and then the flick of a lighter. He waved Dawn away furiously, ignoring her angry expression.

‘Hi,’ came the reply eventually, followed by a long inhale.

‘So, you caught up with me, what can I do for you?’

‘Er, well, I was just, um, I think I lost my gloves. Were they in your bags?’

Anders let out a long breath, he didn’t know whether to laugh or not. That was either the worst excuse ever or Mitchell really had lost his gloves three weeks ago. How could someone of one hundred and eighteen be so inept? Anders laughed.

‘You just realised you lost the gloves you never take off, wow. Um, I don’t know. I’d have washed them if I had found them, though it’s possible my housekeeper burnt them as a health hazard.’

Mitchell laughed, but didn’t say anything.

‘Tell you what, come over later and you can check out my bags, and any other places I could have hidden them.’

Anders stood up and sat on the edge of the desk, smiling as he heard Mitchell laugh again. Keep it light, he thought, just sex, make it clear nothing else is on the table.

‘When are you free?’ Mitchell asked.

‘I’m my own boss, the question is when are you free? The man of mystery who’s taken three weeks to remember he’s lost his gloves.’ Mitchell laughed again and Anders smiled to himself, he felt warm when Mitchell laughed and half hated himself for that, because that meant a lot more than sex.

‘I can pop over this afternoon.’

‘Let me check my schedule. Hmmm, am I free for a vampire to search all my private places?’ Anders paused. ‘How thorough will this search be?’

‘Very thorough, I really like my gloves.’

‘What if I don’t give them up?’

‘I’ll make you scream.’

Anders grinned, getting into his stride now. ‘You’re going to make me scream? I can’t imagine how.’

‘I think that if I kiss all the bits of you I want to fuck you’ll scream the place down.’ Mitchell’s voice was darkly seductive, his accent seemed broader. Anders gulped and felt his cock swiftly stirring. ‘Then I’m going to suck your cock until you come down my throat.’

‘I think I’m free now actually,’ Anders said, not caring if he sounded desperate.

‘Don’t you have work?’

‘Dawn can take care of everything, I don’t have a fucking clue what we’re doing anyway.’

Mitchell laughed again, Anders was already grabbing his jacket.

‘Where are you now?’ Anders asked.

‘Outside that café by your flat, the little Polish one.’ It was Anders’ turn to laugh now, Mitchell was on his doorstep. The ‘Polish Café’ as he called it was a little sandwich bar that did great coffee run by a Polish couple. Thank god he lived so close to work, he’d still grab a cab if he could though.

‘You fucking stalker. See you in fifteen, I’ll meet you outside the café.’

Mitchell laughed again before saying goodbye. Anders ended the call and looked up to see Dawn with a livid expression on her face staring at him.

‘See you in fifteen? That did not sound like a new client, Anders. Don’t you dare walk out on me this afternoon. We have the boat people coming to finalise the launch and Kate from Prada about doing their London Fashion Week campaign.’

‘And you are so much better than me at all those things, you’re always complaining I don’t know what I’m on about and what do I know about fashion? You will be fine, Dawn.’

‘No, Anders!’ she raised her voice. ‘Don’t you bail out for some girl!’

‘I’m not bailing out on you for some girl. I have an extremely important appointment about a lost artefact, finding it will bring great rewards. You’re fantastic, Dawn, well done for everything.’

With that he strolled out the office, ignoring Dawn’s pleas, only thinking of seeing his vampire again.

~

Mitchell was leaning against the brickwork outside the café, sunglasses on, grinding out a cigarette with his boot. He looked around and seeing Anders stuffed his gloves in his coat pockets and turned towards him, grinning. Anders was furious with himself when his stomach did a flip.

‘Hey, stranger,’ Anders said, desperately trying to play it cool.

‘Hey,’ Mitchell said with a smile. Anders couldn’t help grinning back. He was taken aback by Mitchell’s dark, striking beauty when he saw him, it had been the same outside the hospital and when he’d walked into his office that first time. Mitchell stepped close to Anders and touched his shoulder. Anders could feel the hot touch even through his jacket.

‘Coming up?’ he asked, not trusting himself with any other response. Mitchell nodded.

They walked through the main doors of the apartment building, into the lift to the eighth floor where Anders lived in silence, still saying nothing as Anders unlocked the front door. As soon as it clicked shut behind them they fell upon each other. Anders felt himself being pushed against the wall as Mitchell’s tongue swept his mouth, he wanted him, wanted more so badly. He kissed Mitchell back hard, wrapping his arms around him, only stopping so they could shed their jackets. Mitchell took hold of Anders’ shirt front and pulled it apart, sending buttons pinging to the polished wooden floor, while Anders struggled to remove his tie.

Anders couldn’t wait any longer, fuck undressing , there was time for that later, he pulled Mitchell through the second door in the hallway into his bedroom and let Mitchell pull him onto the large bed, falling on the black sheets and rolling them over so Mitchell’s hot weight was on top of him.

They kissed and kissed as hands roamed, frustrated by clothing, and they ground their cocks together through Mitchell’s jeans and Anders’ lighter office trousers. Anders kissed down Mitchell’s throat, to his chest, licking over the dark hair, grazing his teeth on Mitchell’s skin, drawing out moans and hands furiously undoing his trousers and pulling at his boxers until his stiff cock sprang free. Mitchell made quick work of shoving his own jeans and boxers down his thighs so their bare cocks brushed against each other, before Mitchell took them both in his hand and began to stroke.

‘Need you,’ Mitchell muttered, Anders wasn’t sure if he was saying it to him or himself. Mitchell let their leaking cocks slip and slide against one another, before letting go of himself and stroking Anders as he kissed and licked his neck and chest. Anders was moaning, embarrassingly close to coming already. Mitchell showed no mercy, stroking and kissing, grinding into his thigh and when he reached between Anders’ legs and a single finger began to stroke and apply the gentlest touch to his hole Anders felt himself coming, he could hear himself moaning and crying out incoherently, clinging to Mitchell’s shoulders.

‘John,’ he cried as he spilt over his stomach.

Mitchell grinned in satisfaction, breathing fast and hard, as he let go of Anders and stroked himself. Anders moaned and knocked his hand away, taking Mitchell’s cock in his hand.

‘Fuck,’ Mitchell moaned, rolling to his side to give Anders better access. ‘Oh, fuck.’

‘Come for me,’ Anders murmured. ‘Come for me,’ he said again, Bragi on his lips. ‘Oh god, you’re fucking perfect when you come, John,’ Anders panted, his wrist flicking back and forth as Mitchell screwed his face up and came hard, crying out in a strangled sort of way as he came and Anders felt another hot splash on his stomach as Mitchell’s long hair fell forward and tickled his shoulder before Mitchell’s head lay there, hot breath gently blowing his chest hair as they lay getting their breath back as their trousers were stuck around sweaty thighs and the remains of Anders’ shirt hung off his other arm. They lay for a few minutes until their breathing slowed and Anders noticed the cool draft across his bare skin from the hallway. He shivered slightly and tried to pull Mitchell closer.

‘So, can I search you now?’ Mitchell asked, sitting up slowly and moving between Anders’ legs, yanking his trousers all the way down and throwing them over his shoulder.

‘Only if you’re very thorough,’ Anders replied, grinning as Mitchell spread his legs apart.

 

 


	4. Friends with benefits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Mitchell are now friends with benefits, so they say. But are they developing deeper feelings?

**Four weeks later**

Anders smiled at Mitchell, stroking his curls back from his face. Mitchell stirred, grunted softly and turned over in his sleep. Anders was thinking he’d give it half an hour before waking him when a hand reached out for his own hand and Mitchell pulled Anders close to him. Anders snuggled up to Mitchell readily, pressing lazy soft kisses to his chest. They lay close and silent for a while, Mitchell enjoying the rough scratch of Anders’ stubble against his chest. A grin spread over Anders’ face when Mitchell’s hand stopped stroking his fingers and guided his hand to his cock instead.

 

**Eight weeks later**

 ‘Fish and chips? Really?’ Anders asked, his eyebrows raised. ‘They smell weird.’

‘How can you have lived here for almost two years and never have tried fish and chips. You haven’t lived!’

‘Never went anywhere with anyone who thought they were a good idea before. But I’ve tried lots of new things lately, so what the hell? We’re still getting drunk later,right?’

Mitchell smiled and pushed open the door to the chip shop.

They ate their fish and chips on the seafront, Mitchell found it amusing to throw scraps to the circling gulls, enjoying the way they swooped and caught the chips in mid-air before they even hit the beach below as they freaked Anders out.

‘They’re huge fucking monsters,’ he complained to Mitchell’s laughter. ‘They’d carry off children, they’re vermin! Stop feeding the buggers.’

‘Ah, they’re just doing what comes naturally.’

‘Stealing my food!’

‘You’re peeling all the batter off the fish, it’s a waste to bin it.’

‘I can’t believe you people eat that stuff.’

‘I’ve eaten weirder. You know in Sardinia they eat a cheese that has maggots in it?’

‘That’s vile.’

‘And some of the pickles in Eastern Europe… I’m not sure what was in some of them.’ Mitchell considered and shrugged. ‘Tasted alright though.’

‘When were you in Eastern Europe?’

‘Various times, I get about. They eat chicken’s feet in Honk Kong.’

‘Are you trying to make me spew?’

Mitchell laughed. ‘Such a delicate soul, aren’t you?’ Mitchell reached over to Anders’ chips and grabbed one. Anders slapped his hand away, Mitchell laughed again and grabbed Anders’ wrist, bringing his hand to his mouth. ‘Your fingers are all sticky, you haven’t quite mastered the art of eating battered fish with a little wooden fork.’ Smiling and holding his gaze he licked Anders’ finger clean.

‘Now, come on, hurry up,’ Mitchell said, his face breaking out into a huge grin. ‘I’m going to take you to the amusements,’ he spoke like an excited child. Anders shook his head and groaned, but with good humour.

‘No, please, John, no. They aren’t amusing.’

‘There’s the biggest Big Wheel in Britain and Ireland! Anders, you have no sense of adventure!’

‘That’s adventure to you?’

‘I grew up in Ireland over one hundred years ago, you’re so spoilt these days, life’s not all iPlods and virtual reality you know.’

‘IPlod? Did you actually say iPlod?’ Anders giggled and jostled Mitchell affectionately.

‘You know what I mean. Come on, if we get there soon we can go on a few times before they close.’

Mitchell jumped up, Anders looked at him grinning and was reminded of an excited puppy. Mitchell spent a lot of time looking desperately sad. If all it took to make his eyes sparkle was the prospect of a Big Wheel Anders supposed he could bear it.

‘Okay, okay, just promise me you won’t buy candy floss.’

‘I promise not to buy the stuff in bags, but on a stick? It’s the ultimate sugar high.’ Anders gave up and laughed, taking Mitchell’s outstretched hand, the wool of his gloves feeling familiar against his palm.

‘We are so getting drunk later,’ Anders said, rolling his eyes and following Mitchell along the windy seafront to the ‘amusements’.

 

**12 Weeks later**

Mitchell stood by the far wall behind the tables and watched Anders work the room, he was good at standing unseen in rooms, hiding in the shadows. Anders had asked him to be his plus one, but he didn’t want to embarrass him in Carl’s old suit, with his long hair and cheap shoes. It was some kind of media gig, the people were arseholes, but fashionable arseholes. Prime pickings if he’d been hunting, people who so lacked any sincerity or care beyond their own appearances he felt he was doing humanity a favour by taking them out.

Anders appeared from the crowd, drinks in hand. ‘There, peach schnapps, weirdo.’

‘Cheers,’ Mitchell said, winking at Anders.

‘You only wanted to make me ask the barman for it, he thinks you’re a chick now.’

‘I like it, honestly!’

‘You like silent films,’ Anders scoffed. Mitchell shrugged, worried Anders found him too old fashioned. He was so into modern stuff. But everything since 1960 felt modern to Mitchell.

‘Kids these days have no taste, you want everything so busy.’

Anders laughed and put his hand on Mitchell’s arm. ‘You going to come meet people, old man? I want to show you off.’

‘Me?’ Mitchell raised his eyebrows, wondering if Anders was taking the piss again. Anders leaned into him.

‘You’re the best looking person in this room, you’re better than any of them.’

Mitchell leaned against the wall, alongside Anders. He looked at the fashionable people, they were thinner and better dressed than most people, and yes, a higher than average proportion of good looking people. He smiled to himself at Anders’ compliment.

‘I’m not some girl who needs talking into your bed,’ he said, leaning down a little to speak directly in Anders’ ear. ‘I’m going to carry you into bed later,’ he added in a low voice, letting his lips brush Anders’ ear lobe the tiniest amount.

Anders smiled smugly, but took hold of Mitchell’s arm and guided him towards Dawn, who was talking to a small group of expensive looking people. ‘You’re the first date I’ve ever been actually proud to be seen with, you know that?’ Anders told Mitchell quietly and seriously, before introducing Mitchell to the surrounding people, giving him no chance to answer. Mitchell felt a warmth spreading through him, he smiled broadly and forgot about his cheap suit. It didn’t matter that Anders told everyone he was his friend who did some work for the company, that’s what he’d wanted, nothing heavy. If he’d looked to his side he would’ve seen what Dawn saw, Anders smiling proudly as he watched Mitchell talking and laughing with the other guests, admiring him being admired.

 

**Four Months Later**

Mitchell flicked his lighter and cursed, the damn thing wouldn’t light, he tried again and got a small anaemic flame, enough to light the cigarette cupped in his hand. He inhaled deeply and blew out a stream of smoke, watching it until it dispersed and disappeared and he slumped back on the sofa. He closed his eyes and the same face appeared.

 

Anders. Bloody Anders. He was meant to be a one off, a diversion. He was becoming a habit, a habit that weighed Mitchell down. He wasn’t even sure why he felt guilty, maybe because Anders made him happy, how could he be happy after what he’d done? He didn’t deserve happiness. Laughing and smiling were for other people, clean people who hadn’t done the things he’d done. How could he lie on the settee in Anders’ smart flat and laugh until his sides ached, then fuck with wild abandon. Nina had been right, they were monsters, they should be locked up, not living amongst normal people, doing normal things. He was a loaded gun.

 

But he didn’t want Anders, not in that way, not his blood. He wanted him in every other way, hell he’d had him in every other way. He couldn’t kid himself it was just sex anymore. That was easier, it was just sex, just a lay. That facade was over when he realised he had more clothes in Anders’s flat than his own and he hadn’t seen Carl for a fortnight. He shouldn’t even like the man, he was cocky, arrogant, way too full of it for someone barely over thirty. But Mitchell did enjoy putting him in his place, nobody had ever looked so delicious with their hands bound to a headboard. And it was sex without blood. Mitchell hadn’t had sex without bloodlust for almost a century.

 

They had fun too, the sudden trips to some spot in the country. ‘Come on, John, it’s for work, you can be my driver, you’ll be doing me a favour, I’ll pay you, put it on the clients’ expenses.’ He’d cajole Mitchell out into the world, and it was fun. Their trip to Brighton, where they’d brought candyfloss only to get caught in the rain, bolted back to the car and shared a disgustingly sticky ball of fluff inside the new hire car as rain belted down, blurring the world outside. Then there was the trip to Manchester, because Anders had watched some TV show and wanted to see ‘the fucking north’. They’d ended up in a gay club, which they both hated, then fucked like it was their last night on earth in the hotel. Five complaints about the noise, a bill for a broken table and a bathroom which looked like a hurricane had hit it. Mitchell sniggered as he remembered Anders using Bragi’s voice to placate the extremely pissed off duty manager the next day.

 

Truth was Mitchell felt guilty for liking Anders, the guy could be an absolute idiot, a cocky little shit. But who was he to judge, he who was a stain on existence. Besides he’d always liked the company of larger than life characters, it wasn’t often he met someone who he wasn’t a danger to either. Anders had a certain insecurity though, a need for approval, maybe that’s what it was, Mitchell mused, maybe he fulfilled something in Anders too. It was a relief, to be in the company of someone who didn’t force him to concentrate on not killing them, and wasn’t a vampire. He’d had it with vampires, with humans, with werewolves and the whole damn world. Or so he thought.

 

Mitchell stubbed his cigarette out as his phone bleeped. It was an old phone, he’d politely declined Anders’s offered of a smart phone (‘I’m doing a promotion for Samsung, take your pick’), he was hardly a going to start taking selfies, though he’d heard that was the latest craze for vampires, to take selfies at a kill and send them to each other. The thought turned his stomach, they were fucking sick. He also knew that were he to join the craze he’d have the best pictures of all. No tramps in doorways for John Mitchell. No, it would be the beautiful girl seduced to her death in a penthouse apartment, the young man who was so strong and brave, dead in Mitchell’s embrace. Or a carriage full of mutilated bodies. Twenty corpses with their throats ripped out. He shuddered and picked up his phone, which had just bleeped.

 

‘Hey, fancy a bite to eat later? Meet me at office, no tramp chic. A xx.’

 

Mitchell laughed. Anders was a cheeky sod. ‘What time? And you love the tramp chic.’ he texted back.

 

The reply was instant. ‘6pm, the only thing I like about your tramp chic is how easy it is to jerk you off in those sweatpants. A xx’

 

Mitchell smiled affectionately. ‘See you later, J xx’ he typed out.

 

How did it come to this? He was almost in a relationship, in fact he would say he was if he hadn’t heard Anders complain endlessly about the evils of relationships. Anders was strange, he’d done all the running in the beginning, Mitchell had been too miserable to get out of bed some days, he barely felt worthy of being alive, nevermind worthy of the attention of someone attractive and interesting, someone with a life to lead. But for his own reasons Anders had persisted, their meetings had progressed from that first night when Anders’s demonstration of his power had impressed even a jaded and cynical Mitchell, and somehow led to the best sex Mitchell had had in decades, to weekly run ins, orchestrated by Anders, which led to more sex, to what could only be described as dates. Now Mitchell spent more time with Anders than his actual flatmate and Anders brought his favourite beer and a toothbrush for him to keep at his place.

 

But after months of increasing intimacy, an intimacy forged through their shared secret of the supernatural world, a need of companionship and, let’s face it, Mitchell thought with a grin, some pretty incredible sex, Anders still referred to him as ‘my friend, John,’ even to Dawn.

 

So what did he have? A year after thinking he’d lost everything forever he had a flatmate, a new system, which despite it’s obvious risks seemed to be the least risky option at present, a boyfriend of sorts who was generous with his money and favours, if not his public acknowledgement of their relationship and a sliver of happiness.  

 

He didn’t deserve any of it.

 

Was that why he turned a blind eye to Anders wandering eye? He couldn’t exactly point the finger either, he knew that his blood feeding sessions were hardly chaste affairs, he could never have done this if he was with Annie, or Lucy, or even Josie. They wouldn’t have understood. He didn’t choose to do it, he was compelled to do it. Anders seemed to understand that side to him more than most people. Mitchell guessed it was the god thing, he’d mentioned stuff about the Idunn goddess, his beloved and destiny, and the ensuing disaster.

 

Mitchell was cold, he went to turn the central heating on, sod the gas bill, he was bloody freezing, September shouldn’t be so cold, he thought as he zipped up his hoodie and fished his fingerless gloves out of his coat pocket. Mitchell struggled to imagine Anders in the grip of a relationship he couldn’t break, like he’d been with the Helen goddess. Anders liked things on his terms, it so happened that his terms suited Mitchell most of the time at present, but Mitchell could well imagine Anders would get pretty freaked out if he was forced out of his comfort zone. The Idunn thing, it sounded like an addiction. Maybe they had that in common, a compulsion nobody else understood. No wonder he was touchy about relationships.

 

Mitchell was going through his meagre wardrobe when Carl got home. The dark wooden doors of the old wardrobe were flung open and various checked shirts of different hues were discarded on the bed.

 

‘Hey,’ Carl called.

 

‘In here,’ Mitchell called. ‘Look, does this look ok for a smart restaurant?’ Mitchell queried holding up a black shirt.

 

‘You look like bar staff.’ Carl hid his smile, teasing Mitchell about his sense of style was an old habit. Carl had taken about twenty years to stop reminding Mitchell of his ill-advised punk phase in the seventies.

 

‘Oh.’ Mitchell frowned. Annie had used that phrase once, to describe George. He felt that familiar tug at his heart. Then it was replaced by the thought that he had started to dress like George. ‘Can I borrow something?’ he asked quickly in response to that thought.

 

‘Is your pretty boy taking you out again? You know you’ve become one of those dreadful absentee flatmates that disappears when they’re in a relationship.’ Carl arched an eyebrow and flopped back on Mitchell’s bed, stretching out his legs.

 

‘I’d hardly call it that, Anders and I are friends, with benefits.’

 

‘Benefits? You mean the benefit of having a dent in your wall where the headboard banged against it repeatedly?’

 

‘That’s been there for years as you well know.’

 

‘Course it has. So where’s lover boy taking you tonight?’

 

‘Don’t know. Maybe Soho again? Maybe near his flat? He said no tramp chic, cheeky bastard.’

 

‘You are rather casual, it never harmed anyone to make an effort.’

 

‘I make plenty of effort.’ Mitchell frowned again as Carl raised an eyebrow.

 

‘Let him play sugar daddy and buy you a whole new wardrobe, it would do you good. Do me good too.’

 

Mitchell threw a shirt at him, pleased it hit him in the face, and pulled on his old red vest. ‘That?’ Carl asked incredulously. ‘Really?’

 

‘With the black shirt. I’m irresistible too him.’

 

‘Cut price Russell Brand.’

 

‘You’re not funny.’

 

‘Mitchell, are you going to be back tomorrow afternoon? I need you here, we have two new people coming to talk about being volunteers, your presence is kind of required, so if you could tear yourself away from your hot sex and see what you think. Two girls again.’

 

‘Ok, ok, what time?’

 

‘Two o’clock. They sound young, I’m not sure.’

 

‘We need more people, Carl, we can’t risk going longer between feeds.’ Mitchell bit his lip. He was afraid of his supply drying up, things were settled and he felt more in control than he had in years. He fiddled with his rings as Carl talked.

 

‘I know, but we have to be careful about exposure. Too many people could easily lead to us being exposed. Unless you ask lover boy to do this thing on them of course.’ Carl gave Mitchell a hard look, it wasn’t the first time he had suggested this.

 

‘I don’t want to involve Anders in that, he doesn’t even like the sight of blood.’

 

‘He doesn’t have to watch, just a few words in their ear afterwards.’

 

‘I’d rather not, it’s not…not nice what we do.’

 

‘You don’t _have_ to fuck them too, Mitchell. Are you worried about Anders finding out about that?’

 

‘I don’t fuck them all,’ Mitchell sighed, exasperated. ‘And we’re not married, we’re just good friends.’

 

‘You were good friends with George. You and Anders are lovers.’

 

‘It’s possible to be both, god, look at us.  Look, let’s meet them and see. We haven’t had any problems so far,’ Carl looked incredulously at Mitchell, who ignored him and carried on. ‘If things got difficult, I’ll speak to Anders. If and when, but there’s no need to involve him now. Christ, it’s bad enough without him seeing what we do.’

 

‘Fine, fine. And remember, we’re not feeding tomorrow, just meeting them.’

 

‘I know!’

 

‘Last time…’

 

‘Was a mistake, it won’t happen again.’ Mitchell threw the discarded clothes back into the wardrobe and slammed it shut. Last time had been a mess. He was meant to be chatting to the girl, explaining what they did, then when he was meant to show a bit of fang, prove what he was, he’d lost it a little. Not that she’d minded, happily encouraging him fuck her, showing him her neck, only Carl’s timely intervention to grab his head and aim it at her arm, not her jugular, prevented him doing what he’d done hundreds of times, ripping her throat out as he came, gorging on a blood high. Mitchell knew he frightened Carl when he was like that, but not half so much as he frightened himself.

 

Maybe that’s what was so refreshing about Anders, sex without bloodlust, it hardly seemed possible, but he loved it. Sex and blood had been intertwined his whole life, now he could enjoy one without the other. It was freeing and made him feel more human, perhaps even completely human, if he could even remember what that felt like. Not even his chaste love for Annie could make him feel as, well normal, as Anders did.

 

‘Well, you’re just about passable I suppose,’ Carl remarked, surveying Mitchell. ‘Are you going to shower before you go out? Leave some hot water, I have a date later too.’

 

‘A date?’ Mitchell grinned. ‘Who with?’

 

‘A guy from the logistics department, we met at that stupid social I went to last week, we’re going to the cinema. He’s into old films, so I’m showing him a few from my youth, not that he knows that of course.’ Carl didn’t look very happy. Mitchell knew he was worried about going on a date with a human, it had taken a lot of persuasion on Mitchell’s part to get him to ask the guy out.

 

‘Nice one. Hot water’s all yours anyway, I’m good.’

 

Carl raised an eyebrow as Mitchell carelessly sprayed aftershave on his neck and ran his hands through his hair. ‘You know, I blame Kurt Cobain, ever since your grunge phase you seem to have developed an allergy to shampoo.’

 

‘Pheromones are attractive, Carl.’

 

‘Hmmm, well, as long as Anders is happy, but remember, I’m not the one calling your look tramp chic.’

 

Carl got up and gave Mitchell an affectionate squeeze of the shoulder. ‘Have a good night.’

 

‘Yeah, you too, let me know how it goes with Mr Cinema Guy.’

 

Mitchell smiled at his friend’s retreating back. Good for Carl having a date. He checked the time on his bedside clock and grabbed his keys and wallet, if he arrived early they might have time for a quickie after Dawn left, he was kind of horny and Anders in his business suit was a turn on. To make sure he sent Anders a suitably smutty text, grinning broadly as he pressed send.

 

As he walked to the tube, phone buzzing with suitably smutty replies about what he might want to do when he got there, Mitchell grinned to himself. He couldn’t help it, Anders made him happy, with his ridiculous sex texts, his surprise dates, his sometimes well disguised affection for his brothers and Dawn, and now him, John Mitchell. Who else called him John for god’s sake? Who else did he allow to call him John? With Anders there was no pressure, no pleas for commitments he couldn’t make, for futures that didn’t exist. It was about pleasure, here and now, not what happened yesterday or might happen tomorrow. God, he needed that, and if it made him happy? Mitchell found his footsteps were lighter as his phone buzzed yet again with promises involving a desk and Anders’s tie. It made him happy, and when he was happy he wanted blood less, that could only be to the good. Maybe Anders was the answer, human, but not quite, something more. A supernatural who was of no threat or interest to vampires, powerful but with a palpable insecurity that drew Mitchell in.

 

‘I’m coming for you, Anders Johnson,’ he typed as he entered the tube station. And I’m not going to stop, he thought to himself, before descending into the Northern Line’s tunnels.

 

~

 

Anders head tipped back against his chair as he panted hard, body shivering as he got his breath back. Mitchell’s dark head was still between his legs, slowly looking up at Anders, grinning wickedly. Anders lifted his own head and met Mitchell’s grin. ‘You are fucking evil, but I love it,’ Anders laughed as Mitchell dipped his head and gave Anders’s cock a final lick before pulling himself up.

 

‘I know you love it, you depraved little god,’ Mitchell laughed, moving into Anders’s lap.

 

‘You have a bit on your lip.’ Anders leaned forward, pulling Mitchell’s bottom lip into his mouth, tasting himself. ‘Filthy man, god, you’re something else.’ Mitchell laughed into his mouth before kissing him again, deeply. ‘Care to untie me?’

 

‘Not really, I like you here, at my mercy. But if I want dinner tonight I suppose I’d better.’ Mitchell nuzzled at Anders’s neck as he leaned over his shoulder and pulled the tie that bound his wrists behind the back of the chair free.  Anders quickly brought his arms around Mitchell, pulling him close and burying a hand in his curls, before kissing him again. Mitchell ran his hands up and down Anders’s chest, pulling his shirt further apart.

 

‘We should get out to dinner,’ Anders whispered, his hands finding their way into Mitchell’s lap, slipping into his still unzipped jeans. ‘God, you’re getting hard again. How do you want me?’ Anders whispered the words in Mitchell’s ear, he paused, a kiss, then Bragi was on his lips. It was Anders’ joke, to try and tempt Mitchell with Bragi’s voice, knowing it wouldn’t work, but it was a game to try nonetheless. ‘You want me on the desk, go on, John, bend me over the desk, fuck me over the desk.’

 

Mitchell groaned, it was all too tempting. ‘Naughty gods who abuse their powers will be punished, Anders,’ he teased.

 

‘Tell me about that, it sounds very intriguing.’ Anders slipped his hands in the back of Mitchell’s jeans, squeezing then creeping down further.

 

‘How about I tell you after we’ve eaten? I am starving.’ Mitchell stood up and hauled Anders out his chair, giggling as he pulled his trousers up, a pout on his face.

 

‘This is just your way of torturing me, you’re a terrible man, John. If I physically explode over Thai noodles it will be your fault!’

 

‘I just gave you a blow job! How can you be ready to explode?’

 

Anders didn’t reply, just grabbed Mitchell’s crotch and kissed him. ‘Guess I like a bit of fang.’

 

‘Guess you do,’ Mitchell smiled, doing up Anders’s shirt before sorting his jeans out. ‘So, Thai?’

 

‘I’m doing some promo for this restaurant, get to check it out and have some fun. Then we’re going for a trip on the London Eye, by night. No flying out the window when we’re at the top,’ he added with a wink.

 

Mitchell smiled. Maybe he should be offended by Anders’s stream of vampire jokes, but one of the things he liked about Anders was his ability to see the ridiculousness of their supernatural status. Maybe it was a Kiwi thing, maybe just an Anders thing. Maybe being a short Kiwi guy, who happened to be the Norse god of poetry made him think the whole damn universe was a joke.

 

‘I’ll try and restrain myself. You know I can’t actually fly, right?’

 

‘That’s really disappointing, John. If Hollywood has taught us anything it’s that vampires can fly. But, hey, did you see Thor? Jesus! You should meet the real Thor.’ Anders laughed heartily to himself. ‘Thor’s the biggest knuckleheaded, shitkicking farmer in the world. The guy’s a complete loon. And their Loki? Loki’s a porky lawyer, who’s basically an absolute wanker, they didn’t make Loki nearly a big enough wanker.’

 

‘Yeah, funny how they didn’t make it more realistic,’ Mitchell observed drily. ‘Can I smoke?’

 

‘Yeah, just don’t get it on the sofa, Dawn will have a fit, she hates smoking. Hey, you want something stronger?’ Anders indicated the safe, which amongst other things contained Anders’s supply of illicit substances.

 

‘Nah, I’m good,’ Mitchell replied, lighting up and taking a deep drag. ‘So, the London Eye by night, sounds cool.’

 

‘Yeah, I’ve always fancied it.’ Anders watched as Mitchell stretched his arms out on the sofa in the corner of his office, the muscles of his arms rippling as he brought the cigarette to his lips again. ‘What I really want to do is fuck you at the top of the London Eye, but they have fucking cameras.’ Anders said it as if this was the greatest affront to civil liberties he’d ever heard.

 

‘I don’t show up on cameras,’ Mitchell grinned.

 

‘That would look even weirder, like I’m fucking thin air. I’d be bloody arrested.’ Anders shook his head. ‘How can it be so hard to fulfil a sexual fantasy in the modern day?’

 

‘What is the world coming to? Seriously that’s your sexual fantasy? To fuck me at the top of the London Eye?’

 

‘Well, in the skies. And seeing as you don’t do airports…’

 

‘Sorry to disappoint.’ Mitchell shrugged and took another drag, thinking.

 

‘Where do you fantasise about fucking me?’ Anders asked, sitting beside him and manoeuvring into Mitchell’s side until Mitchell wrapped his arm around him.

 

‘Ummm, lots of places.’

 

‘Be more specific, what’s the most unusual or weirdest place you want to fuck me?’ Anders put his feet up on the table in front of the smart leather sofa and snuggled closers to Mitchell.

 

‘Probably in the back of a taxi, for weirdest.’

 

‘That’s not weird.’

 

‘Isn’t it? You know what? I’d like to have you in a huge bed, you in the middle, waiting for me,’ Mitchell grinned and kissed Anders’s temple, a wicked glint in his eye. ‘You getting yourself nice and ready for me, all by yourself, while I watch, then I fuck you until you’re begging to come.’

 

‘That can definitely be arranged.’ Anders smirked. ‘You know I could pull off the taxi thing too, few sweet words to the driver to forget everything, keep driving, what do you reckon?’

 

Mitchell put his cigarette out and kissed Anders, cupping his cheek. ‘I think you’re a filthy minded little god who abuses his powers for his own pleasure.’ More kisses. ‘And I love it.’

 

Mitchell laughed as Anders shrugged and carried on speaking with Bragi’s voice.

 

‘You can have all your fantasies, John, you can have anything you want with me. Starting now, undo your jeans.’ Anders grinned as Mitchell complied. ‘You know you want to touch yourself, while I watch. Go on.’

 

Mitchell wriggled until his cock was comfortably free and wrapped his hand around himself. Anders was holding his gaze. ‘Touch yourself and make yourself come, I want you to come looking at me.’

 

Mitchell swallowed, held Anders’s gaze and did as he was asked. He leaned into kiss Anders before letting his head drop back.

 

‘Think about how good it’s going to be when I’m in you later, when you’re on your back and I’m kissing you and fucking you and making you come so hard. Think about how good it’ll feel, me inside you.’

 

Mitchell was breathing fast now, he clutched at Anders with his free hand, pulling him closer. He didn’t really know why he was doing what he was doing, he’d always found doing this awkward as part of sex play, but now he was doing it, he could see himself as if he was looking down on the scene from above. Mitchell felt himself flush, but he didn’t stop.

 

‘You look so good, you look so beautiful,’ Bragi whispered. ‘My beautiful John, you know how much I’ve wanted to see you do this?’ He kissed Mitchell’s neck and pulled his shirt aside, kissing his chest above the red vest. ‘Come for me, come now. Let me see you, look at me when you come.’

 

Anders sat back a little as Mitchell’s pace picked up. Mitchell held Anders’s gaze, his face flushed with excitement and embarrassment. He still didn’t know quite why he was doing this, but it felt good, it felt good to please Anders and his hand felt good. He wanted to do the things Anders, or Bragi, was now whispering in his ear, do all the filthy things he suggested. Without taking his eyes off Anders he opened his mouth slightly, sucked in a breath then let out a drawn out moan as he came, spilling over his hand as Bragi urged him on.

 

Mitchell sat still for a moment, eyes closed as Anders grinned at him. He opened his eyes and looked searchingly at Anders. ‘What just happened?’ he asked.

 

‘You were incredibly hot and horny is what happened,’ Anders grinned, cupping Mitchell’s face and kissing him. ‘God, that was hot, I’m all hard again now.’

 

‘No,no, you used your voice on me.’ Mitchell felt as if he was coming out of a haze now Bragi had retreated from Anders’ lips.

 

‘Yeah, but it doesn’t work, you were just playing along,’ Anders snorted, gently picking up his messy hand and licking it, his gaze flicking up to meet Mitchell’s. Mitchell moaned again.

 

‘God, Anders.’ It was filthy and erotic and made Mitchell want to go again. He took a deep breath, not wanting to be distracted.

 

‘Yes I am a god,’ Anders kissed Mitchell softly.

 

‘Your voice worked, it felt really weird. Like I was watching myself from above, I was here, but I didn’t know why I was doing it.’

 

Mitchell felt the colour rising in his cheeks again and hastily tucked his cock away, buttoning his jeans.

 

‘But it’s never worked before?’ Anders asked, interested now.

 

‘No, I don’t think so.’

 

‘Maybe you just wanted to do that anyway? I can’t make someone do something they don’t really want to do, deep down. Like those girls I’ve shagged, they want me, they just get a little encouragement to let go of their inhibitions. You wanted to do that, I merely suggested that you did.’

 

‘Isn’t that what you tell yourself when you feel guilty?’

 

Anders frowned, offended. ‘No, I have... it hasn’t always worked. Mostly works, to an extent. The extent it works depends on how much the person wants to do that anyway and how susceptible they are. A weak minded person can be talked into anything, a strong minded person can’t, not even by me. I can soften them up, but I can’t make anyone do anything.’

 

‘But I’m not a mortal.’

 

‘You’re not a god.’ Anders looked thoughtful. ‘Did that really work?’

 

‘It felt weird, like I was doing it and I didn’t know why.’

 

‘Sorry.’

 

Mitchell smiled. ‘Oh, it wasn’t unpleasant. But, how come it suddenly worked?’

 

‘Maybe you really wanted to jerk off for me?’

 

Mitchell sniffed and looked at his lap. ‘I’ve always felt a bit weird doing that in front of anyone. On my own, if they’re not, you know, joining in.’

 

‘Well, maybe you wanted to do it for me.’

 

‘Do you think it would work on something else?’

 

‘It didn’t work, John. You just wanted to get off before we go to dinner. You were hard after blowing me.’

 

‘Maybe your powers have got stronger?’

 

Mitchell was suddenly restless, he had the germ of an idea. Anders sucked in a breath.

 

‘They’ve been stronger since Axl became Odin. I’ve never told anyone this, but before they were kind of shitty, like I could charm people, it made me more persuasive, but I couldn’t make anyone do anything. Like I couldn’t make someone run outside naked, and it never worked on more than one person at a time. But since Axl became Odin, I can make people do things they really don’t want to do.’

 

Anders sat back and looked thoughful, he rarely discussed his powers seriously.

 

‘Like what?’

 

‘Once, when I was with Helen, she got me to get a restaurant to throw us a freebie meal. And then some girls, er, when Axl was first Odin. Well, let’s say that before he was Odin all I’d have got was a kiss, but they were up for a proper root. I feel kind of bad now, I didn’t realise…’ He bit his lip. ‘They’re getting stronger, my powers, the more powerful Axl gets, the more he becomes Odin. When Axl got sick we lost our powers completely. Maybe they’re closer to finding Frigg? Maybe Axl’s stopped being such a dick and started being Odin? Who knows? But it works on groups now, maybe it touches you too?’

 

Anders shook his head as if to try and clear it. He looked up at Mitchell, expression changed. ‘What happened was you were really horny and wanted to jerk off for me. Now, enough of this, we have dinner to eat.’ And Mitchell knew the conversation was closed.

 

Their date was good, the Thai place was pretty impressive and the London Eye was quite spectacular on a clear autumn night. They walked home, arms touching all the way, Mitchell pointing out places he knew or had been to over his long life. The night ended in Anders’s bed, Mitchell on his back, just as Anders had suggested. When Anders lay sleeping deeply beside him, Mitchell lay awake, listening to the sounds of the city outside and thinking.

 

If Anders’s powers worked on him, if they were getting stronger then maybe Anders could use his powers to help him. Maybe he could talk him out of wanting blood. The idea fascinated and terrified Mitchell. He tried to imagine what it would be like not to crave, not to yearn for it with every fibre of his being. It would be like being human.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while! Sorry, real life and that, hopefully next chapter should be up a bit quicker. Thanks again to Lancette for all her invaluable advice and support with this and being such a good laugh to discuss all things Britchell with.


	5. Sex and blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex and blood, Mitchell's not good at keeping them separate. Anders loves sex and hates blood. What will happen when they collide?

Anders checked his phone again, still no message from Mitchell. He heaved out a sigh, adjusted his jeans and pocketed his phone. It was one of his mysterious phases. Again. Anders was bloody sick of them. They’d be getting on brilliantly, planning stuff, having fucking amazing sex, then suddenly he’d go AWOL for a couple of days with no explanation, just a shrug of ‘I’m a vampire,’ and expect to go back to normal. Anders was sick of it. _I’m a bloody god,_ he thought as he stood up.

‘Dawn,’ he called. ‘I’m just heading out.’

‘Where?’ she asked suspiciously, glancing up at him from her work.

‘Have you heard from John Mitchell lately?’

‘How lately?

‘Today, yesterday?’

‘No, why? Did you want to get hold of him?’

‘Yeah, I tried his phone. I could do with a driver next week.’

‘I’ll call the agency,’ she offered.

‘No, no,’ Anders said, irritated. ‘I want John.’

‘Why?’ Dawn asked, raising her eyebrow. ‘What’s going on with you two? Are you doing something with him? Because if it’s illegal it’s really wrong, you could really hurt him, he’s vulnerable.’ Dawn was fixing him with a hard stare. She seemed to think Mitchell some kind of down on his luck saint. Anders didn’t blame her, he’d saved her from being mugged and helped her out by acting as a stand in driver and delivery man in emergencies. Dawn was under the impression Mitchell was a nice guy doing her a favour as he was in need of the extra cash, she had no idea it was a convenient excuse for hanging around Anders, his lover.

‘There’s nothing strange going on with me and John Mitchell,’ Bragi soothed. ‘We’re just friends who like to hang out.’ He smiled as Dawn’s eyes went out of focus, she blinked and looked up at him again.

‘Yeah, it’ll be nice for you to hang out with a friend,’ she smiled.

‘Anyway, I’m going to track him down, you stay here.’ With that Anders wandered out of the office and headed towards Mitchell’s flat.

~

Anders could hear the music and voices from the flat, but there was no answer to his repeated knocking. He’d never met Carl properly, but he could hear two male voices and female laughter, then he heard Mitchell, it was unmistakably Mitchell’s laugh. He was starting to get anxious, his stomach lurched, he felt his chest tightening. Then there was a scream, a woman’s scream.

Anders had had enough, he banged on the door with the palm of his hand and to his surprise it gave way. He stood in surprise for a moment before going in. Mitchell and Carl lived on the ground floor of the large red brick Victorian building, there was a hallway with black and white floor tiles, much tidier than Anders would have expected, he saw Mitchell’s jacket hanging up, there were other coats on the hooks, including two girls’ jackets. He heard the scream again. The girl didn’t sound like she was having fun, she sounded frightened.

‘You’re hurting me,’ the girl’s voice cried out. Then there was another voice.

‘Mitchell! Mitchell, stop, just back off.’ Anders recognised Carl’s voice from the times he’d answered the phone.

‘Sorry, baby,’ came a low, familiar drawl. It made Anders feel sick, the seductive tone, the sound of kissing, the girl’s cries of pain turning to little moans of pleasure.

‘Where can I bite?’ he heard Mitchell ask. Anders could hear the smile on his lips. There was a mumbled reply then a sharp cry. Anders suddenly felt as if he was going to be sick, he stumbled down the hallway to the kitchen and sat down, resting his head in his hands.

Anders didn’t know how long he sat there, he’d tried to stop listening, but he still heard it all. The room was small, with a dark wooden table and old painted wooden cupboards, the work surfaces were cluttered with kitchen equipment, but it was all neat, betraying the fact that Mitchell spent little time here. The cries continued, the unmistakable sound of people having sex, the shouts as Carl pulled Mitchell off, the argument between the two men and the slamming doors and voices as the two girls were unceremoniously asked to leave.

‘You always take too much!’ Carl shouted, furious as he shut the door on their guests.

‘I’m sorry,’ Mitchell pleaded. ‘I just, it was her, she was so good, Carl.’

‘You mean you enjoyed fucking her. Maybe we should only get people you really don’t fancy.’

‘I don’t fancy her, it’s just, you know, sex and blood go together. You don’t fancy girls, fair enough…’

‘Which is why I use girls, to keep control.’

‘Well, what am I meant to do?’

‘You could try harder, Mitchell. God knows, I love you and I owe you, but you make it hard at times.’

‘Look, it’ll be better next time, but I can’t stop, you know I can’t. You know what could happen, I daren’t let that happen.’

Carl heaved out a sigh. ‘You want a drink? We can open that wine. Hey, come on, it’s not that bad. Mitchell, stop. Look, I’m getting a drink.’

Anders suddenly sat up, he could hear Mitchell crying and he realised they were going to come into the kitchen to get a drink. He stood up, cursing as the chair scraped on the floor.

‘What the…?’ Carl said, hearing the sound and dashing to the kitchen. The two men faced each other, Carl was wearing black jeans and had no top on, Anders noticed he had a good body and felt an immediate stab of jealousy.

‘Who are you?’

‘Anders, John’s friend. Sorry, the door was open.’ Anders automatically held out his hand, although he felt more like hitting the guy at that moment.

‘Sorry, you caught me at a bad time. Have you been here long?’

‘Long enough. Look, I have to go.’

Carl looked at him and frowned. ‘You look pale, sit down, I’ll get you some water.’

‘I’m fine,’ Anders snapped.

‘You don’t look fine, you look like you’re about to throw up.’

‘Is it any wonder? I have to listen to that, you fucking and sucking their fucking blood!’ Anders shouted, losing his temper unusually fast. ‘Listen to my … to John fucking some little slut. Enjoy it did you? I knew it, you and him and-’

‘And nothing! There has been nothing between Mitchell and me for decades!’

‘Yeah, right, sounded like it.’

‘That was not me. Look, you better talk to him about it, but now’s not a good time.’

‘Anders?’

Anders looked up and saw Mitchell in the doorway, face creased in worry, he was a mess. He was wearing tracksuit trousers and his chest was covered in spots of blood, there was blood on his chin and his eyes were red.

Mitchell approached him gingerly. ‘Anders, I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice breaking, he held out a hand to Anders, tried to touch him. Anders jumped back.

‘You’re covered in blood, go and clean yourself, you’re fucking disgusting.’

Mitchell nodded, hanging his head. ‘Please wait, let me explain, please.’ He looked at Anders, there was a tear rolling down his cheek, his lip quivered. ‘Please, just listen to me.’

Anders wanted to walk away, leave the room and walk out the door and never see him again, to forget him, forget everything they had and the sight of blood on his chin. He wanted to pretend he’d never met John Mitchell, never mind cared for him. But when he saw the desperation in Mitchell’s eyes he faltered. Anders knew it already, but it hit him, in that kitchen with its pokey wooden units and thin walls, that he cared about Mitchell, more than he’d ever cared for anyone. It wasn’t like with his brothers, who he loved because they were his brothers, or Dawn who was a friend of sorts, or Helen, who he’d lusted for. There was the sick jealousy at the thought of Mitchell with someone else, there was the urge he had to take Mitchell in his arms now and hold him, to let him kiss away all the hurt and make Anders his.  There was the longing for him that had brought him here in the first place. Anders hated himself for it.

‘Clean yourself up first.’ Ander cringed as he said it. He’d wanted to say ‘fuck off’ and walk, but he needed to hear Mitchell, he needed to hear that what he’d heard didn’t mean the end of what they had.

‘Carl, can you look after Anders while I… um,’

Carl nodded, rolling his eyes and Mitchell.

~

Anders sat on Mitchell’s bed, there were fresh sheets and Mitchell was freshly showered, he wore a loose Laurel and Hardy t-shirt (a gift from Anders) and red boxers (another gift from Anders), and clasped Anders’ hands as he spoke.

‘It’s there all the time, all the fucking time, it’s everything, the sum of me. I think about it all the time, when I can next feed, how much I can have. It’s all I can think about sometimes and it drives me crazy and to be around them, living breathing humans and not … it’s torture. This is the best we can do, Anders, the best option. These people want it, they have a vampire fetish. We aren’t hurting anyone, definitely not killing anyone and we’re not a risk.’

‘You have to drink? To live?’ Anders looked up at Mitchell.

‘I don’t know. I know we can go a really long time, decades even, without it, but there’s always a pay back, always. I don’t know anyone who’s gone more than like, twenty years, so maybe we can’t live without it. And the longer you abstain the worse it gets you when you come back, believe me I’ve learned the hard way. Carl, he was clean for like, twenty years, then he couldn’t fight it anymore and he killed his boyfriend, the man he loved more than anything.’

‘Are you worried you’ll kill me?’

‘No, you’re the only restbite I get from the blood, I don’t want your blood. God, I love being around you, I feel normal, human. I haven’t felt that way for nearly a century.’ Mitchell moved towards Anders, tried to kiss him, but Anders pulled back.

‘I still don’t get how this means you have to fuck these fetish slags.’ Anders spat the words out.

‘That’s just me,’ Mitchell whispered, closing his eyes, full of shame. ‘I’m not good at separating them, sex and blood. I used to… I used to use it, as a way to feed and I can’t let go.’

‘So you used to use your charms to lure some poor girl to your bed and then kill her and drink her blood?’

‘Do you know what it is to want something so badly that it defines every moment?’ Mitchell was exasperated, he didn’t know how to explain anymore. He looked at Anders, his eyes glazed with unshed tears.

‘Yes,’ Anders said, uncharacteristically grave. He sat saying nothing for what seemed to Mitchell like hours, Mitchell carried on holding his hands and stroking his fingers, waiting for him to say something, it wasn’t often Anders was silently lost in thought. ‘Yes, I know. Idunn, remember? And it’s ok.’

‘Ok? How can it be ok?’

‘It’s ok, because I understand you need to do it,’ Anders shrugged, serious but matter of fact. ‘It’s not a choice, and I get that, I really do.’

Mitchell looked at him almost incredulous. ‘So we’re not finished?’

‘No, look, John.’ Anders sighed and gripped Mitchell’s shaking hands. ‘We never said we were getting married, never said we were exclusive and all that crap. Look, stop all this,’ he indicated the tears that were starting to fall down his cheeks. ‘Stop it, come on, it’s ok. Just, keep the blood thing away from me, I’m squeamish.’

‘This is who I am, Anders. I am a vampire, I’ve been wearing human clothes but I’m not one, I’m a…’

‘You’re special, John. I’m no mortal either. Hey, I know what you are, I’ve always known.’

‘You looked like you were going to puke in the kitchen.’

‘I told you, I don’t like blood, especially since Helen bled all over my kitchen floor. Honestly, you’d have loved it,’ he tried laugh and failed. ‘John, I … I really like being with you, it’s the best relationship I’ve ever had.’

Mitchell smiled weakly, it made him incredibly sad to think this was as good as it had ever got for Anders.

‘Me too,’ Mitchell said, leaning forward to kiss him softly. ‘But you need to know what I am, what I do, and I promise I’ll stop sleeping with them, I promise, I’ll get Carl to tie me up.’

‘He’d love that, he so has a hard on for you,’ Anders said with a dry laugh, bringing their foreheads together for a moment and kissing Mitchell’s nose.

‘He so doesn’t, I can promise you that.’

‘Bollocks, he’s desperate to fuck you.’

‘Anders, he really doesn’t fancy me, trust me. We’re so beyond that… look, I’m not having that discussion now.’

‘Fine, but yeah, if you like.’

‘What?’

‘Don’t screw the girls. Definitely don’t screw the boys, that would be an insult to my cock. Just do your little blood thing, give the girls a flash and nobody gets hurt, I get it. Like I said, we’re not married.’

‘You need to know what I am,’ Mitchell said, seriously, ignoring Anders’ attempts to joke. ‘I won’t be able to stop with the blood, not ever. And sometimes I feel I’m barely holding it together. I’m a vampire, I always will be, I can’t turn it off. This is what I am.’ He let his eyes go black and bared his teeth, showing Anders his fangs. ‘This is me.’

Anders flinched, it was only the second time he’d seen Mitchell do this. He slowly looked up and held Mitchell’s gaze, looking into his eyes, looking for the man he knew.

‘Speak to me,’ Anders commanded, not knowing if Bragi was speaking for him or not, but there seemed to be a sudden courage that made him sit up straight, take Mitchell’s face in his hands and look at him had. ‘You’re the vampire, can you speak?’

‘It’s just me, it’s just John,’ Mitchell whispered. ‘This is me.’ Anders knelt on the bed, so he was higher up than Mitchell, he pulled Mitchell so he faced him.

‘You think I’ll hate you now? I’ll be freaked out and leave?’

Mitchell nodded.

‘You’re wrong. Can I touch them? Your fangs?’

‘They’re sharp, just the sides, don’t touch the point.’

Anders slowly put his finger to the elongated canines in Mitchell’s upper jaw. ‘And this is _my_ vampire,’ Bragi breathed, bending down to kiss Mitchell softly at first but then harder and more insistently.

Mitchell kissed him back, he had a raw need to be close to Anders. He let Anders push him back on the bed and straddle him.

It happened slowly, Anders insisting Mitchell look at him the whole time, as he undressed him, kissed him and slowly opened him up, before fucking him. Anders felt as if he was watching the scene from above, the way he often did when Bragi guided him. He saw himself grab Mitchell by the hair, his instincts for self-preservation kicking in, pulling Mitchell’s head back from his shoulder as Mitchell came and those sharp fangs were moments away from sinking into his flesh. He laughed at his near miss, whispered, ‘you’re mine,’ and came hard.

When Anders opened his eyes again Mitchell’s had gone back to normal.

‘That was hot,’ Anders laughed, rolling off him. Mitchell wasn’t laughing.

‘You still want me,’ he said, his gaze intense and adoring.

‘Of course I fucking do, you egg,’ Anders replied, being pulled into a tight embrace where he was crushed against Mitchell’s chest and couldn’t see him mouthing the words _I love you_ into his hair.

**A couple of months later**

Mitchell could hear the radio, Chris Evans was introducing the next song and being abused for his choice in colourful terms by Anders. He could smell coffee too, he stretched out in Anders’ bed and smiled to himself. Waking up here had become familiar and he felt at home as he reached for a cigarette on ‘his’ bedside table. Anders had taken to buying him actual cigarettes as he thought roll-ups were messy (and probably thought they made him look like a tramp or a student). Mitchell wasn’t going to complain about getting free cigarettes, it made a nice change, they were so much smoother, the smoke didn’t catch his throat and there was less risk of singeing his gloves if he let it burn down to the tip. He lay in bed listening to Anders making sarcastic comments to the radio news bulletin as he finished his cigarette, then stubbed it out and got up.

Anders grinned at him when he saw him. ‘Wow, you look like you’ve been raised from the dead,’ he quipped, winking as smoothed Mitchell’s hair which was sticking out madly at all angles before  he put another capsule in the coffee machine. Anders didn’t drink expressos, but he brought them for Mitchell. Mitchell yawned and wrapped his arms around Anders from behind as Anders switched the machine on.

‘Should I pop back to my coffin?’ Mitchell asked, kissing his cheek.

‘No, because I have a job for you.’ Anders wriggled out of his embrace and picked up his tablet.

‘I have a job already, at the hospital.’

‘A shit job, that you always moan doesn’t give you enough money. I have a brilliant job that pays well and has certain bonuses.’

‘Let me guess, driving you somewhere?’ Mitchell grabbed a bowl and looked for cereal, opening cupboards. ‘Do you have any cheerios?’

‘You ate them all. I need to go to somewhere called Dorchester. I’m doing some work for a boutique hotel chain, they’re aiming at the well-heeled London weekend getaway crowd and I’m checking them out. They have a place in Dorchester, but the train looks a fucking nightmare.’

‘It’s nice down there, near the seaside.’

‘You can build a sandcastle then, you like seasides. There’s an overnight stay and dinner thrown in too of course.’ Anders picked up Mitchell’s hand and laced their fingers together. ‘And me,’ he added, his thumb stroking Mitchell’s.

‘I can’t go next weekend, I’m working. Do you have any Frosties?’

‘Yeah, in the cupboard, Dawn thinks I’m having kids to stay by the way, now I have to buy all this shit for you.’

‘Dawn?’

‘She does my Ocado order. Kids who smoke.’

‘You haven’t told her it’s me?’

‘And break her heart when she has such a crush on you?’ Anders laughed and pinched Mitchell’s cheek, mocking him. ‘She doesn’t give any other odd job men the good biscuits.’

‘So I’m an odd job man now?’ Mitchell asked, raising an eyebrow as he poured himself a large bowl of Frosties and added milk. Mitchell wondered why Anders hadn’t told Dawn they had a thing yet, even at the media company launch he’d been to with Anders he’d been introduced as a friend. ‘Is my coffee done?’

‘There you go,’ Anders said, passing Mitchell his expresso.

‘Cheers.’ He ate and drank for a few moments, perching on a stool at the breakfast bar. ‘Okay, but I need to check with Carl, he needs me some weekends.’ They both knew this was code for Mitchell feeding. Anders might know, but that didn’t mean he wanted any more than the barest details. They exchanged uncomfortable glances.

‘Well, text him now, I need to confirm today.’

‘You could send Dawn and Ty,’ Mitchell suggested. Was this one too many weekend breaks?  It would give him the idea they had a future.

‘What so they can be boring in a different city? Nah, we’ll have much more fun.’

‘You don’t have to keep doing this, giving me little jobs,’ Mitchell sighed, a weekend away with Anders in a quaint town near the sea sounded brilliant, but he didn’t deserve it, he could feel Anders giving him his heart and he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t go there, this was just about sex and having a laugh. ‘Aren’t you abusing your position?’

‘You love it when I abuse my position,’ Anders grinned, winking at him. ‘Anyway, what’s wrong with having fun with a friend? And you get paid.’

‘You don’t need to pay me.’

‘Client pays.’

‘But I’m your boyfriend.’

‘I thought we agreed never to use that word. Look, I’m helping a friend, that’s all.’

‘So I’m just a friend now?’

‘That’s the way you wanted it, we’re free people, John.’ What could Mitchell say? That was the way he wanted it, it still hurt when he was faced with the realisation Anders was doing what he pretended he wanted him to do.

Mitchell sighed, he could sense the change in Anders, brought about by his reluctance, he was putting the shutters up.

‘Free? How free?’

‘Free as you like. We meet up, have fun,’ Anders gave Mitchell a peck on the lips, but there was a coldness.

‘Look, we could just go on a date, you don’t have to pretend to employ me.’ He knew he was backtracking now, trying to assuage some of the hurt.

‘I don’t pretend. I do pay you. And anyway, you told me you couldn’t do relationships, so if I want to spend any time with you outside this flat I better have an excuse.’ Anders voice was rising. Mitchell shifted and wished he’d bothered to put on more than a pair of boxers.

‘It’s just complicated,’ Mitchell mumbled, not meeting Anders’ eyes.

‘Oh what’s complicated? Your schedule for drinking the blood of virgins?’ Mitchell said nothing, Anders was closer to the truth than he realised. ‘You know what, do what you fucking like.’

‘Hey, you’re the one who’s always complaining how awful relationships are!’ Mitchell snapped. He hadn’t expected Anders to lose his cool, he so rarely let his emotions show.

‘Relationships with whining bloody mortal women who want something I can never give them, and _her_ , you know, Idunn! But you’re not like that.’

‘What, because I don’t want your babies?’

‘Because you don’t want me to hide what I am, pretend to be a mortal. And you don’t want to change me.’

‘I want you to be nicer to Dawn.’

‘Oh for fuck’s sake, you know what I mean. Oh, just fuck it, go and hide in your bloody coffin and I’ll just see you next time you’re horny. Or maybe I won’t. Maybe you’ll go back to fucking your blood whores.’

Mitchell closed his eyes and sighed. Anders would never trust him, not since hearing him fuck and feed. Maybe he should’ve asked Anders about using his voice after all, he’d thought about it, agonised over it, but always backed out, thinking it was too much to ask of Anders. Or was he just scared it would create a bond between them that couldn’t be broken, or was it really, that deep down Mitchell didn’t want to stop drinking at all.

‘It’s vampire stuff.’

‘Fine, but don’t imagine I sit here pining for you. I have other interests.’

‘Really?’ Mitchell asked, trying to sound as if he didn’t care, but he could feel jealousy and anger stirring, he knew he’d like to rip the throat out of anyone else who touched Anders.  He’d suspected Anders didn’t see their relationship as exclusive, not since he’d realised Mitchell didn’t. Mitchell had never asked for that, given any indication that he wanted that, but it was like a punch in the gut, especially as he’d tried so hard since then to stop the sex thing. He could feel the vampire in him stirring, an image of him tearing at the throat of a faceless woman flashed before his eyes.

‘Yeah, like you say, not in a relationship. Now stop looking at me like some jealous chick.’

‘Oh fuck you,’ Mitchell banged his bowl down on the table and stood up. ‘You don’t understand.’

‘I understand just fine. You want to fuck your flatmate, I’m your bit on the side. You want to kill virgins and drink their blood. It’s disgusting.’

‘I do not fuck Carl!’

‘You told me you had a thing.’ Anders pouted petulantly, but there was a real edge in his voice. ‘And he watches you fuck your weirdo blood slags, what’s that about? I bet he loves it, wank material for a month. He wants to nail you.’

‘Over sixty years ago!’ Mitchell spluttered, incredulous. It was hard for him to imagine that Anders could be jealous of Carl as he and Carl were so past that, he guessed it was difficult for someone Anders’ age to understand what the passage of so much time did.

Mitchell was about to say more, but his phone rang.

‘You’d better get that, it’s been going all morning.’

Mitchell picked up the call, it was Carl. ‘Hi,’ he said irritably.

‘Finally, what have you been doing?’

‘I’ve been asleep, what’s up?’

‘You need to get home, she’s coming this afternoon.’

‘Who?’

‘Charlotte Campbell.’

Mitchell swallowed. ‘I’ll leave now. When’s she coming?’

‘Two-fifteen, just hurry up, she mentioned you specifically.’

‘Shit, okay, just stay calm, it’ll be fine, she likes you.’

Mitchell finished his call and looked up to see Anders’ puzzled face. ‘I have to go,’ he told him tersely.

‘Willing virgin on the line?’ Anders snapped.

‘Hardly, it’s vampire stuff. I have to go, look, I’ll call you.’ How did he even begin to explain to Anders?

~

It had been an awkward parting with Anders, Mitchell hadn’t wanted to leave it like that, but Carl hadn’t really left him much choice. Charlotte Campbell, the Lady of London as she was sometimes known. An Old One with a reputation for her iron will and her network of influence, which some said went to the very top. She was also Carl’s maker and took a special interest in her recruits. Carl was part disappointment, part exotic pet; the clean vampire. God only knew what she made of Mitchell these days.

Carl had been tidying even more than usual. He’d gone spare when Mitchell arrived dishevelled and unshowered. ‘She likes the way I look,’ he’d protested as he was frogmarched to the bathroom. They were now sitting rigidly on the sofa, in their best clothes, a suit in Carl’s case, a short sleeved checked shirt and black jeans in Mitchell’s.

‘At least take those gloves off,’ Carl hissed.

‘She likes my gloves, she said they were unique.’

‘She meant they were shite. For God’s sake, Mitchell, you need to buy a suit. Get lover boy to buy you one.’

‘I don’t think he’s going to be lover boy for much longer.’

Carl sighed. ‘Why?’

‘Because we had a row.’

‘What about?’ Carl sighed, waiting to hear how Mitchell had screwed it up. ‘You told me you got on brilliantly, even though he’s rude and scared of blood.’

‘He wanted me to go on a weekend away with him, and pay me to be his driver.’

‘What’s wrong with that? You need the money and every time you go away with him you’re walking on sunshine for a week afterwards.’

‘What’s wrong is that I can’t be in a relationship, I can’t let him get attached to me.’

‘Because?’

‘I don’t want to break his heart. It can never last, can it? I fuck everything up. And even if I don’t, I’ll stay like this and he’ll die one day.’

‘Little ray of sunshine today, aren’t you? You think he’s fallen for you?’

‘Maybe, hard to say, now I think he could still be sleeping with other people.’ Mitchell’s face clouded over.

‘Which, even though you screw girls when you drink, makes you jealous?’

‘It doesn’t,’ he lied. ‘But it doesn’t matter.  Look at me. What we do, I do, it’s disgusting, he hates blood.’

‘Mitchell, you’re talking to me. You really like this guy, he knows what you are. It might be easier if you didn’t sleep with everyone, any time you want to stop…’

‘I’ve hardly done that at all since he found out.’

Mitchell was about to retort some more when the doorbell rang and Carl leapt up. He ran his hands through his hair again and was soon standing before Charlotte, the most influential and powerful vampire in London, one of the few people Mitchell genuinely felt in awe of still.

She was a trim, but well-built woman, her black hair was neatly pinned in a bun, with a blunt fringe finishing above her dark eyes. She wore a dark skirt and blazer and carried an expensive handbag. Her eyes were deep set and hooded and her cheekbones prominent, her nose was little too narrow and her lips a little too full, but she was a striking woman with an aura of power. She commanded everyone in her vicinity.

‘Mitchell,’ Charlotte said in a clipped English accent, her arms out stretched. ‘So good to see you again, and welcome back!’ She pulled him into an embrace, he returned it without having the faintest idea what to make of it. ‘Congratulations, we were all impressed with your work in Bristol, you were always too good for Herrick, I was telling Jane only last night how you were always in a different league. Jane, come and look at him, he’s still as avant-garde as ever in his fashion sense, no wonder you two always got along.’

Mitchell inwardly groaned as Jane grinned at him, seeming to suddenly pop up behind Charlotte. He smiled and let her kiss him full on the mouth.

‘’Ow long’s it been, darlin’? she cried. ‘Oh, you’re looking better than last I saw you, Daisy fed up you nicely.’

‘You’re looking good too,’ Mitchell replied with a false grin, trying to catch Carl’s eye, but Carl was closing his eyes as if trying to block out a nightmare. Jane wore a denim mini skirt with buttons up the front, a checked shirt which she’d tied at her waist and brown suede platform ankle boots. It had the effect of making her look about seventeen. She was well over two hundred years old.

‘So, you comin’ out later?’ Jane asked Mitchell. ‘We got some fun lined up.’

‘I was going to have an early night,’ he stammered. Jane just laughed and pinched his bum, making Mitchell yelp.

‘Get us glasses,’ Charlotte told Carl, sitting down and removing a hip flask from her hand bag. Carl quickly obeyed and brought four crystal port glasses, which Charlotte filled with blood from her flask. ‘Fresh this morning, gentleman. Now, a toast. To sticking together.’ She raised her glass and they all followed suit.

Jane drained her glass first and watched Mitchell very closely as he drank his. ‘That’s my boy,’ she murmured as he drained the glass. ‘Back where you belong.’

‘Are you still doing this ridiculous voluntary scheme?’ Charlotte asked Carl.

‘It’s going well,’ Carl said nervously.

‘Hurrah for the Big Society, I must remember to tell the Chancellor next time I see him.’ She turned and smiled at Mitchell, it was a cold smile. ‘And are you enjoying this little scheme?’

‘It’s helpful,’ Mitchell said. ‘Helpful for us…’ Mitchell tailed off as Jane put her hands in his jeans pockets from behind him suddenly. Charlotte ignored this and carried on talking.

‘I hope you’re not fasting, Mitchell, because you can’t lose control like that without consequences anymore.’

‘Sorry for any trouble,’ Mitchell said, trying to ignore Jane’s wandering hands.

‘You did the right thing, just try to be less, um, obvious next time please. My plans for you will be no good if you get arrested again.’ She smiled at him. ‘I remember the days when you could feast on a whole village and nobody cared, even Jane remembers that.’

‘Little Smelton, 1829. There were that French place too, remember? In the war.’ Jane spoke as she teased Mitchell with her fingers, enjoying his discomfort.

‘Yes,’ Charlotte smiled. ‘War is always good cover, we had some good days.’

‘Mitchell knows, he were on the Eastern front with me in 1941, chaos is such fun. I think we did at least three villages, but I get mixed up. We ended up dining on the crew of a Norwegian whaling boat in the Baltic, it was bloody cold!’ She exclaimed to Carl’s look of disgust. ‘Anyway, the captain and first mate were like us. We got dropped off at bloody Hull in the end. Fuck me, I thought Russia was rough.’

Carl nodded, trying to maintain his impassive face. Mitchell was cringing, Carl didn’t know about Russia in 1941, possibly his bloodiest year on record. He remembered Herrick laughing and promising to send Mitchell on holiday more often when Jane regaled him with their exploits. Jane? Who was he kidding, they’d both boasted long and loud. He remembered everything.

‘Do you know the one country Mitchell won’t visit?’ Jane sighed. ‘I’d bloody love to go to Ireland with you, darlin’’

‘I don’t like to go back,’ Mitchell shrugged.

Charlotte grinned malevolently at Mitchell, enjoying his discomfort.

‘Anyway, I’ll leave you youngsters to play, be gentle with them, Jane. Oh, and Mitchell’s got a little boyfriend so you might have your work cut out raising much out of him at the moment. You can tell me about Bragi another time, I’m meeting the police commissioner at four.’ She checked her watch. ‘I’d be very interested to hear about him. You and him make a very powerful couple. It’s about time you stopped this ridiculous teenage rebellion and became what you were made to be.’

‘What’s that?’ Mitchell asked, grabbing Jane’s wrist to still her wandering hand. He met Charlotte’s eyes and held her gaze defiantly.

‘A leader. Your people need you, John Mitchell and you owe us quite a debt at the moment. You’re worth waiting for, but I won’t wait forever. Things are becoming difficult and I want you somewhere useful, not hidden away, moping and cut off. Oh, and stop walking near Waterloo please, you frighten the newbies.’

With that Charlotte set her glass down on the coffee table and swanned out. Mitchell’s stomach lurched, especially when Charlotte mentioned Anders. He wondered how she knew what he was, she certainly didn’t seem very surprised. But he was being pushed onto the sofa by Jane, who straddled him, swiftly revealing she was wearing no underwear. Mitchell was frozen as she began to fiddle with his zip.

‘Let’s go out,’ he cried, jumping up, letting Jane slide onto the sofa. ‘Pub?’

Carl nodded, looking as in much need of escape and alcohol as Mitchell, at least in a pub she couldn’t literally climb on his cock.

‘Nowhere skanky and you’re buying. I always get ID’ed, flatterin’ at my age I suppose, but a bloody pain in the arse.’

Mitchell and Carl exchanged glances. It was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette for all her help on this, it's been a really slow chapter to write as I've wrestled with OCs, real life and exhaustion. Hope it's ok.


	6. It would be cruel to deprive the ladies of our charms entirely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Mitchell and Anders resist the charms of the fairer sex?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again to Lancette for being a great person to discuss all things Mitchell with. I couldn't write this fic without her.

**Two Days Later**

Mitchell was relieved he’d managed to get in the flat without Carl seeing him, or the state of his clothes. He pulled his clothes off quickly and jumped in the shower, still pleased Carl wasn’t there. His growing confidence he could hide what he’d been doing in the last two days was shattered when he finished in the bathroom and wandered back to his room, towel around his waist, to find Carl sitting on his bed holding his blood stained underwear and staring at him.

‘Hi,’ Mitchell said, picking up his hairbrush and making a show of brushing his wet hair.

‘Where have you been, Mitchell?’ Carl snapped.

‘Out and about. Christ, I’m one hundred and eighteen, I’m allowed out on my own.’

‘But you weren’t on your own, you were with Jane Adams, and you’ve come back two days later with your underwear covered in blood. I knew I should have stopped you leaving that pub with her.’

Carl leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Nothing happened,’ Mitchell mumbled. ‘You know Jane, she doesn’t take no for an answer.’

‘So you fucked her and killed for her?’ Carl’s voice rose. ‘You’ve fallen off the wagon at the first temptation.’

‘I did not fuck her!’

‘But you did kill?’

Mitchell sighed and sat down. He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to fight the realisation of what had happened, he curled his fingers into his scalp, as if he could claw out what was inside and make it go away. ‘No, she picked up this girl. She killed her, and I just shared a little, but I wouldn’t have killed.’

‘So you’re telling me Jane, who struggles to get served in bars, picked up a girl all by herself and you just stood there and did nothing.’

Mitchell shrugged. ‘It was Soho, you know?’ he flinched at Carl’s bark of disbelieving laughter. Carl knew him too well. He’d been drunk and Jane had cut her wrist, let him taste blood, it was an old habit of hers to get him in the mood for the hunt. He’d not fed for a while and even her vampire blood went to his head, making him lose his restraint. She’d picked the girl out whilst sat on his lap as they’d pawed each other in the club, it was true Jane and done the talking, but Mitchell had been the bait.

‘What happened?’

‘We went back to her place and, you know,’ Mitchell shrugged. ‘Come on, it was Jane, what do you think happened?’  She had been a pretty girl, she would be, with him and Jane as bait, she’d been all too pleased to come back and he’d watched wolfishly as the two women undressed one another, kissed and touched on Jane’s huge bed, their limbs pale and almost ghostlike against the purple satin bedspread in the low light of the night. He’d thought of Anders and how he’d enjoy this show the girls were putting on, of how good it would be if Anders were there and they could put on their own show. He’d thought of Anders’ hand around his cock even as Jane kissed between their pretty victim’s legs until she lost her mind. And he held himself back, because Anders was on his mind, there was no Carl to stop him losing control, he didn’t want to kill again. He’d felt sick as Jane lifted her head, kissing up the girl’s slender body, licking her breasts, up to her neck, before baring her fangs and sinking them into her victim before she even knew what was happening.

It was a quick death, Jane didn’t play with them like some. She greedily drank, beckoning Mitchell without lifting her head from the girl’s neck. He’d bit down on the other side and there’d been silence but for the greedy sucking and slurping of blood as the two vampires drank their victim dry. It was so familiar, the routine with Jane, it didn’t even require discussion, not even a reminder. The worst thing was he didn’t even remember if he’d had sex with Jane afterwards, they’d done it so many times and fucked so many times, it was just another hunt with Jane.

Mitchell threw his hairbrush at the wall and slid down to the ground, burying his head in his arms as he hugged his knees and let out a howl of despair. ‘No, fucking no!’ he cried as the enormity of what had happened hit him. Carl watched as he twisted his body, hands clawing at his hair before he beat his fist on his leg in sheer anger and frustration,

‘Did you call your boyfriend in the past two days?’ Carl asked at last when Mitchell stilled. ‘He called the house phone.’

‘What did you tell him?’ Mitchell asked, lifting his blotchy red face to look at Carl.

‘That you were working extra shifts.’

‘Thanks.’

‘I should have said you were off hunting with a nymphomaniac vampire.’

‘I don’t think we fucked,’ Mitchell said softly, trying to rescue something from the whole awful mess.

Carl snorted.

‘No, I really tried not to. If we did it was very quick and I was very drunk.’

‘I’m sure that’ll make Anders feel much better. You were too sated on blood and alcohol to remember, but if you did it was quick. Jesus, what’s wrong with you?’ Carl exploded at last. ‘I cannot believe that you’d just bring her into our lives like that. That you’d throw away our scheme, and your boyfriend, just like that for a quick meal with someone who is frankly insane!’

‘I’m not throwing anything away. I’m so sorry, I never meant it to happen.’ Mitchell wiped at his eyes, trying to pull himself together. ‘This is because we’ve been feeding less, I’ve been feeding less since I’ve stopped, you know.’

‘Fucking them as well?’

‘Yeah, so I take less blood. Maybe if you just untied me I could…’ he was trying to charm, trying to convince, but Carl knew his game and didn’t fall for it, he shook his head, cutting him off.

‘You’re a liability, Mitchell.’ Carl sighed and knelt in front of his friend. ‘I can’t go on like this, when we feed,’ he hesitated, then swallowed and continued. ‘I let you in on this on the condition you didn’t kill, you’ve already turned it into some kind of sex game, but now…it’s too much. If you’re going to disappear with Jane for days… I can’t do it with you anymore.’

‘You’re kicking me out?’ Mitchell said, his eyes widening.

‘No, no, you can stay here for as long as you like. You’re hardly here anyway these days. But the feeding, I can’t do it with you when you’re like this.’

‘So you’re refusing to share?’ Mitchell stood up, furiously pulling his clothes on. ‘You’ve become such a prude, it’s just fucking, Carl. Jesus, I’ve not killed anyone, I’m not going to see Jane again.’

‘Mitchell, this is me! I know you better than that. You never could resist Jane, and now killing again.’ Carl looked sad, the disappointment in his eyes was worse than his sharp words.

‘I’m not killing,’ he said pathetically. He knew it was pathetic, so Jane had sunk her fangs in and he’d done what? Played with his cock looking at Jane’s arse until the girl was unconscious? Christ, it would have been better if he had killed her.

‘Oh come on, Mitchell, you expect me to believe it was all Jane?’

Mitchell sat down and put his head in his hands. ‘I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. Just give me one more chance.’ He picked up Carl’s hand and held it. ‘One more chance, please, Carl, please. I promise I won’t see Jane again.’ He looked at Carl, pleadingly as tears spilled down his cheeks.

‘No,’ Carl said, his expression pained. ‘No, I can’t, you’re going to kill one of those girls.’

‘What if I get Anders to use his voice on me, what if he can talk me out of killing, of needing blood and the sex thing, I can stop that.’ Mitchell was becoming animated. Carl sighed, he was all too charming. ‘I can do it, the sex thing is a habit, you can tie me up, and Anders will talk me out of it and it’ll be fine.’

‘Have you asked Anders about this? Anyway, you said his powers don’t work on you.’

‘He was joking once, messing about with it and I think it worked.’

‘What did he get you to do?’

‘That doesn’t matter,’ Mitchell said, blushing as he remembered. ‘The point is, it could work.’

‘And what does Anders say?’

‘I don’t know, I haven’t asked him.’

‘So your grand plan involves persuading a man who won’t even call you his boyfriend making a huge commitment to you, and this is the same man you thought  you might  be finished with the other day. No, Mitchell. Let’s just take a break, ok.’

‘What am I meant to do?’ he was panicking now. ‘I can’t just stop, I can’t.’

‘I don’t know, but if we carry on like this then I’m going to lose it too and we’ll be like we used to be and you’ll bring her in on it, I don’t want to be that person, Mitchell, I don’t want to be a casual killer again.’

Mitchell nodded. ‘I’ll try, I promise, I’ll try harder.’

‘And for God’s sake ring Anders. You left your phone in the pub, you have dozens of missed calls.’ Carl tossed Mitchell the phone and got up.  Mitchell stared at his messages, his stomach lurched. Anders, he’d forgotten about Anders the minute he’d tasted blood and now there was nobody he wanted more in the world.

Mitchell grabbed his coat and ran past Carl, he needed to make things right, and he needed Anders. 

~

Anders sat on the bar stool and drained his glass and Dawn did the same. It was one of those modern chain bars, he couldn’t even remember which, all chrome fittings and no character. Mitchell would have hated it, especially with all the mirrors. It had been a good meeting though, a new client secured and the champagne was good. ‘Another glass?’ he asked Dawn flatly. She nodded, a look of concern on her face. It wasn’t like Anders to be down about anything, especially when they’d just secured a lucrative contract, but he looked like he hardly cared. He looked like he was intent on getting drunk now.

‘Okay, thanks, I’ve time for one more. Ty’s cooking for me tonight.’

‘Ah, the love birds.’ He turned to the barman. ‘Another two glasses of champagne please. No, make that a bottle.’ Anders flinched as he said it, ordering a bottle of champagne always reminded him of the day he met Mitchell and demonstrated his powers on an unsuspecting barman.

He watched Dawn sip her drink and wondered again if he should tell her. Did she know already, about him and Mitchell? Any normal person would have twigged something was going on by now, surely? But he’d used Bragi to placate her whenever she raised any questions about Mitchell’s constant presence, so perhaps she didn’t.

‘Are you okay?’ Dawn asked, frowning with genuine concern for him.

‘Dawn, if you were in a relationship with someone who wouldn’t commit, and you’d been together a few months, what would you do?’

‘Well, after a few months you should know if you love someone, and if you do, then what’s the problem?’

What was the problem? _He’s a one hundred and nineteen year old vampire and can’t stop drinking blood and I’m the Norse god of poetry with an uncontrollable attraction to a Norse goddess which haunts me_ , bet you don’t find that one in your women’s magazines, Anders thought.

‘Look, Anders, it’s good you’re with someone, but don’t string them along. If you love her, then you could at least introduce her to people, if not, maybe you should…’

‘Hang on, it’s not me! I don’t have commitment issues, I know what I want, it’s him, he’s just….’

‘Him!’ Dawn’s eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling before she hastily rearranged her face. Anders smirked at her surprise.

‘So, you’re, um, you are in love with a man, I mean a person, who happens to be a man, who er, yeah, so, oh my god, you’re in a relationship!’

The twin surprises were a lot for Dawn, Anders smiled as she glugged her drink and unsteadily refilled her glass.

‘So, are you, um, are you in love?’ Dawn asked, wide eyes, alcohol giving her a rush of giddiness and courage.

‘Fuck, I don’t know,’ Anders spluttered.

‘You don’t know?’ Dawn raised her eyebrows. ‘Anders, I have known you for seven years, in all that time the longest relationship I’ve ever known you to have has been for a week. One week. Now you’re telling me you’ve been with someone for months! If you’re not in love now you never will be!’

Anders squirmed, considering the truth of her words. Of course he damn well loved Mitchell, he’d have to, to still want him after seeing him covered in blood and weeping, but he wasn’t about to admit it, because if he said it out loud it would be real and he’d be dependent for his happiness on a man who would never give him anything more than scraps. A wave of want for Mitchell washed over him and he felt vaguely disgusted with himself for letting it get this far, he’d always been so careful never to let anyone in, or anyone close. But Mitchell was something special, in lots of ways.

‘Well, maybe,’ he answered. ‘But I don’t know what he wants or where he’s at, he has issues.’

‘Yeah, well, so do you. Like not introducing him to anyone you know, maybe he thinks the same about you?’

Anders shrugged. ‘Maybe, but he knows I want us to be together.’

‘And who is he? This man of mystery?’

Anders laughed. ‘You’ll be so jealous.’

‘It’s obviously not Ty, so unlikely.’

Anders laughed again. ‘You have such a crush on him.’

‘You’re going out with Johnny Depp?’ Dawn raised her eyebrow.

‘John Mitchell.’ Anders sat back and took a drink, watching Dawn’s jaw fall open again.

‘Mitchell? As in Irish Mitchell?’

‘Yeah,’ Anders smirked. ‘Jealous?’

‘Don’t be silly,’ Dawn snapped. ‘Is he really gay?’ she blurted, cheeks reddening even as she spoke.

‘No more than me,’ Anders laughed. ‘Look, it would be cruel to deprive the ladies of our charms entirely.’

‘You are, aren’t you? Depriving the ladies of your charms? Now you’re in a relationship?’ Dawn looked at him suspiciously.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ he said, annoyed. ‘Well, as much as he’s depriving the ladies of his charms anyway. We’ve been together a few months.’

‘Since when?’

‘The day you got mugged.’ Anders shrugged at her disapproval as she realised her misfortune had led to the bedroom for Anders. ‘You were ok, you had Ty, we went for a drink, one thing led to another…’

‘And you haven’t told me all this time?’

‘I told you, he likes to keep things casual.’

‘Because you’re a guy?’

‘Because he has issues. General issues, not gay issues.’

‘You usually like casual.’

‘John isn’t some floozy,’ Anders said dismissively. ‘He’s different.’

Anders banged his glass on the bar and refilled it while Dawn collected her senses. ‘Well, you wanted my advice, so I’d talk to him and tell him how you feel.’

‘Yeah, thought you’d say that.’ Anders drained his glass in one go and sighed, there was no way he could tell Mitchell how he felt, he’d be humiliated and end up feeling like a total idiot. Anders looked at Dawn and shook his head, considering using Bragi to make her forget the whole conversation. He sighed and decided against it. Let Dawn tell Ty and Ty tell the rest of them. Why should he hide it? John would come back, he always did, full of affection and desperate to make up for his absence. Maybe them knowing would make it easier to stop picking up girls when Mitchell did his disappearing act, Anders knew deep down that was just a way to comfort himself, to stop his bed being cold and lonely and full of nightmares about blood and John killing Helen as she lay on his kitchen floor. Better a quick fuck and a warm body to curl his arm around. It made him feel normal, like the Anders of old, the Anders who hadn’t fallen in love with a vampire.

‘Anyway, you get off to Ty and you can tell him all about me being gay now and going out with the bloke you fancy.’

‘I wasn’t going to gossip…’

‘Course you were, it’s by far the most interesting thing you’ve heard today, this week or possibly even this year.’ Anders smirked as she rolled her eyes. ‘Right, I’m going for a slash then I’m going to go home.’

Dawn gritted her teeth. ‘Do you want me to call you a cab?’

Anders stood up and stretched. ‘Nah, I’ll get the tube. I need a walk to clear my head. Where’s the nearest station?’

Dawn got her phone out and looked up their location. ‘Charing Cross. Do you mind if I get a cab, I’m kind of running late?’

‘Yeah, sure.’

‘And Anders,’ Dawn said, standing up and pulling on her coat. ‘I’m really pleased for you, Mitchell’s a great guy, I hope you work things out.’

‘Thanks,’ Anders smiled tightly. If only she knew.

Anders watched Dawn leave and after he’d paid the bill he automatically checked his phone again, no new messages. _Bastard_. He stomach clenched as he thought of Mitchell with his mouth covered in blood, of the noises he’d heard, his mind started racing with images of Mitchell fucking girls covered in blood, always looking like Helen, crazy beautiful Helen, his goddess, his Idunn, who’d bled to death on his kitchen floor.

Anders scanned the bar for girls to take his mind off it, not to sleep with necessarily, but to flirt with, but there were no likely targets, all businessmen and couples. He shook his head. It had been two days, he’d be back soon, making Anders feel good, kissing him, fucking him, whispering sweet endearments as they lay in bed, stroking his hair and telling him how much he was wanted.

But, a little voice whispered in his head, this time you had a fight, this time he’d rejected you.

Anders opened his text messages and started to type, but for what felt like the millionth time deleted it. He pocketed his phone and started walking, hoping to god Mitchell was lying on the sofa when he got home, with open arms and a hard cock, ready to show Anders just how special he was.

~

Anders smelt her before he saw her, that familiar and heady scent that he was sure only he could smell. He was walking into the station, not looking at anyone, just intent on reaching the escalators as quickly as he could. It was the smell, the sweet scent of apples suddenly catching the air amidst the grimy damp smells of a wet day in central London. The first image that popped into his head was Helen, laughing and beckoning him, but it was swiftly replaced by another, less welcome image, that of petite brown limbs and dark curls.

No, Gaia couldn’t be here. He spun around, heading for the newspaper kiosk, he thought to buy gum, or mints, something to disguise the apple smell, as well as the alcohol on his breath (in case Mitchell was back). He was fumbling with his polo packet when he looked up and there she was, staring at him, hanging back, looking at him like it was his fault. Gaia was dressed in her floaty skirt with a floral print and a denim jacket, a huge rucksack at her side. His first thought was that it would be easy to fuck her in that skirt.

What the fuck was she doing here? She was meant to be travelling, putting as much distance between Idunn and Bragi as possible, she’d told him she was going to the States.

‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ he snapped, furiously trying to ignore his hardening prick. Christ, he didn’t even fancy her, but he could have fucked her on the floor, there and then.

‘I was about to ask you the same, I’m going to New York, I’ve been travelling in Europe over the summer and was staying with some friends for a few days, I’m going to the airport now.’ She spoke to him as if he were something she’d trodden in.

‘Well I live here, so do me a favour and don’t come back. I don’t need you fucking up my life again.’

‘Me? I fucked your life up? You’ve got a nerve.’

‘Typical fucking goddess,’ Anders said under his breath, trying to think of John, trying to think of anything but how much he wanted to be buried inside her, to taste her.

They stared at each other for long moments.

‘Do you live near here?’ she asked eventually.

‘No,’ he snapped.

‘I just used the loos in McDonalds,’ she said, her cheeks burning, the humiliation evident in her eyes. ‘There was a disabled one we could…’

He nodded. No words were needed. They made their way in silence, she went in first, he checked nobody was looking and went in after her, locking the door. There was no preamble, no talk, she was lifting her skirt even as he undid his flies and pulled his cock out, now hard and leaking. She looked at him, resentful and sullen, but holding his eyes as she stepped out of her knickers and leaned back against the wall, spreading her legs. He knelt before her, lifting her skirt and licking a hot stripe between her legs, tasting her, the taste he’d craved since he last had her and making her shudder. But that would take too long, he stood up, spun her round to face the wall and thrust into her without ceremony. It was quick and furious, his hands roamed and she cried out and pulsed around him as she came, and still he fucked her, enjoying her littles sobs of ‘so good, so good,’ until he came hard.

Anders pulled out straight away, panting and grabbed at the tissue, wiping himself off.

‘Stay in New York,’ he said, as he did himself up and she put her knickers on. ‘Please, stay.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Gaia hissed, casting him another hateful glare. ‘Like I’d want to come back anyway.’

Anders looked at her for a moment, she looked like she was going to cry, she was trying to wipe up his release and her cheeks were burning under his gaze.

‘Just go,’ she snarled, tears finally falling. He nodded, there was nothing he could do, if he stayed they’d fuck again and again, there was no end with them. He checked he looked decent in the mirror straightened his tie, unlocked the door, slid out and carefully closed it behind him, standing there until he heard her turn the lock again, then he  walked off without a backward glance.

He just walked fast, not daring to look back, pushing past the queues of people, hurrying through the tourists gathered on the concourse and almost running down the escalator. There was a train on the southbound platform of the Northern Line when he arrived and he ran towards it, gliding inside just before the doors closed. Two stops to Waterloo, then change to the Jubilee line, he’d be well away from her then. Only when the train pulled in to Embankment did he check his phone.

_Sorry I’ve not been around, vampire stuff. I missed you, I’m at your flat. Hope you’re not mad at me, can’t wait to see you, love J xxx_

Anders didn’t know whether to hurl his phone through the window or burst into tears. He stared at the message for a few moments and calmly pocketed his phone again, doing what he always did and tucking his anger, his hurt and rage and love deep inside where it couldn’t hurt, or so he told himself.

~

The front door slammed shut with a double bang that jolted Mitchell from his dozy haze on Anders’ bed, he lifted his head, feeling the imprint of his Adidas striped sleeve on his cheek. Mitchell yawned, sat up and smiled weakly when Anders burst in.

‘Oh, you showed up again?’ Anders snapped, pulling his blazer off and undoing his belt with an unusual show of anger.

‘What’s up with you?’ Mitchell sat up, rubbed his eyes and leaned back on the headboard.

‘You even give a shit? Where have you been for the past few days? Actually don’t tell me, your Dracula tales are kind of boring.’ Anders was furious, the goddamned universe was against him today, and the very person he wanted most was not the person he wanted to see right now, not until he’d cleaned himself up and calmed down a bit anyway. Another flare of anger rose in his chest, how dare he? How dare he fuck off and do his blood thing and waltz back like there was nothing wrong, stupid bastard.

Anders pulled his shirt off and stepped out his trousers, but was grabbed by Mitchell before he could head to the shower.

‘What’s the matter?’ Mitchell asked softly. ‘Are you ok? You seem kind of stressed.’

‘Yeah, maybe some of us have to run a business, deal with clients, fucking employees, TV companies, arsehole journalists and can’t just go AWOL whenever we fancy playing at fairy tale fucking monsters.’ He glared at Mitchell, his anger bubbling away still. Fucking Gaia. Why wasn’t Mitchell with him to stop it happening? Because he was off doing his blood shit.

‘I’m sorry, look, you know it’s not like … look, Anders, I’m sorry ok.’ Mitchell sighed and pulled Anders to him. He splayed a hand on Anders’ back and buried his nose in this hair, breathing deeply.  He could feel Anders relax a little, until he smelt it.

‘What the fuck… Anders, have you been with a woman?’ Mitchell pushed Anders back so he could see his face. ‘Anders, I can bloody smell her! You fucked her!’

‘Jesus, you and your fucking super senses. I’m going for a shower.’ Anders made for the bathroom, his stomach clenching, he really didn’t want Mitchell to know, not because he might view it as being unfaithful, Anders felt no obligation on that score since realising how much lust blood lust entailed for Mitchell, but because he was ashamed.  Ashamed of his own weakness. Mitchell held him back, his handsome face creased in anger. ‘Let me go, I need to shower.’

‘You slept with someone else?’

‘What? No, well, yes, but it wasn’t a guy,’ he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Hypocritical shit, like he hadn’t slept with someone else too. He rolled his eyes at Mitchell’s face, which was all intense eyebrows and pout. ‘Look, it’s no big deal. You’ve been off bloodsucking or cocksucking or whatever you weirdos do, so just – ow! Get off!’ Mitchell’s grip on Anders’ arm had tightened. Anders felt a shiver down his spine, Mitchell’s face was like thunder, he was making an effort to control himself with deep breaths. Anders wished he had more clothes on.

‘You aren’t even fucking ashamed, you screw someone else and you’re not even …’

‘What? Of course I’m ashamed… Jesus, John, it wasn’t my fault, I didn’t enjoy it, well I did, but I didn’t want to and I don’t fancy her and…’ Anders twisted out of Mitchell’s grip and rubbed his arm.

‘Is this because you can’t admit you’re with a man? You’re so ashamed of it you fuck a random girl you talk into bed?’

‘You can talk! I know what I am, I know and for your information I’m not ashamed of what I am, or who I am, you self-righteous prick, just lay off.’

Mitchell’s face twisted in a cruel laugh. He looked like he was ready to explode. Anders sighed, maybe the truth was better than whatever Mitchell was thinking right now. 

‘It was Gaia, ok? I ran into her, literally as it happens, in Charing Cross today.’

‘The Idunn chick?’ Mitchell queried, comprehension starting to dawn on him. Idunn, beloved of Bragi, irresistible to Anders in her human form.

‘Yeah, the Idunn chick. So you should feel sorry for me, because I’m the one who’s been violated here, by the fucking universe.’

‘And you just had to go back to her place, you couldn’t have just…’

‘Go back to her place? We fucked in the toilets of McDonalds! I couldn’t even look at her face, I don’t even fancy her, so don’t look so damn offended.’ Anders paused and grabbed his towel, determined not to give Mitchell the moral high ground. ‘Anyway, how was your day, kill any virgins?’

Mitchell’s face clouded over again. ‘You’ve just admitted you cheated, don’t change the subject.’

‘On to you being a serial killer?’ Anders spun round suddenly full of resentment. He would’ve thought Mitchell of all people would understand.

‘And I have not cheated on you!’ he blurted angrily. ‘That would imply firstly intent, and I did not intend to sleep with her, I did not want to sleep with her and I did not enjoy sleeping with her, ok I did, but only physically. I was compelled to by powers beyond my control, which you of all people should understand, and at least I just left her collapsing from her incredible orgasm, not collapsing of blood loss!’

‘Jesus, I do not…look, we have a system, they volunteer and -’

‘And you’re a saint, I know. Now can I go and shower and get her fucking smell off me?’ he wrinkled his nose in disgust. He thought she always smelled vaguely of apples, and sex. He hated that smell, hated that it made him hard, hated that he craved it.

Anders didn’t wait for a response, he knew he’d knocked the wind out of Mitchell’s sails, they never mentioned it, the blood thing, it was the unspoken thing that Anders knew about, he knew what it entailed, he’d heard the sounds, it was the worst hour of his life waiting in Mitchell and Carl’s pokey kitchen, drinking shit coffee, as his lover gorged himself on the women and their blood in the next room. He didn’t need to know anymore. What was the point? He liked his John, he wanted to keep it that way. There were few people who understood compulsion more than Anders at that moment, it was the shitty hand the universe had dealt both of them.

 

~

 

Mitchell watched Anders storm off and slam the bathroom door. He considered pursuing him, but stopped, contenting himself with smacking the door frame, jamming his ring into the joint, letting out a stream of expletives as the pain hit. He wanted to scream, the jealousy was bubbling in his gut, he couldn’t bear the smell on him, the obvious reminder that Anders had been with someone else, that the body Mitchell now considered to be his domain, had been someone else’s.

After a few minutes of angry brooding the pain in his knuckle started to subside with his rage, a defeated resignation washed over Mitchell. Of course Anders probably still slept with women, and he’d told Mitchell about Gaia, what had he said? ‘Sounds like me with the blood, at least you don’t kill anyone. _’ You’re a bloody hypocrite John Mitchell, he thought, you’ve not exactly been celibate the past few days_. Another wave of guilt washed over him as he remembered the girl they fed from, and Jane. Jane naked and covered in blood, and him, all over her and the corpse beneath them.  

John Mitchell knew about compulsion, he could write the fucking book.

Mitchell was sitting on the edge of the bed when Anders finally emerged from the bathroom, freshly scrubbed, freshly shaved and naked save for a towel around his waist.

‘You shaved, I liked your stubble,’ Mitchell said, his eyebrows creasing in displeasure.

‘She’d touched it,’ was the simple reply.

‘I shave too, after… it makes me feel cleaner.’ He touched his smooth chin as he spoke.

Nothing more was said whilst Anders dressed.

‘Where is she now?’ Mitchell asked as Anders ran a comb through his hair. His tone was flat, feigning disinterest.

‘Airport, she’s going back to New York.’

‘It’s not the same.’

‘What?’

‘What I do, and you, being unfaithful. It’s different. Not Gaia, I get that, but the others.’

‘What’s all this unfaithful bollocks? Jesus, you sound like a woman.’

‘Oh god, here we go, with your bullshit.’ Mitchell sighed angrily, this was typical Anders, try to claim black was white and twist things so it was someone else’s fault, in this case probably his.

‘What bullshit? Look, John, we’re not fucking married, you go off and do your thing, I go and do my thing, this afternoon wasn’t something I planned or wanted. End of. Can you stop looking like some injured fucking fawn? You know what this is? Transferring guilt. You feel guilty, so you look at me as if I’m the one who’s done something wrong, then you’re not alone.’

‘Christ, you really are a wanker at times. What do you mean your thing? How many have you fucked?’ Mitchell stood up, anger rising.

‘Only girls, when you’re not around. What? Don’t look at me like that! You disappear for days at a time, no word, no phone call, for all I know you’ve gone to live in a coffin or turned into a fucking bat!’

Mitchell laughed, he couldn’t help himself. Anders may be impossible, but he was funny. ‘A bat?’

‘Yes, a bat!’

‘I’m not a bat.’

‘But you might turn into one on a full moon.’

‘Full moons are a werewolf thing.’

‘I didn’t read Twilight, how should I know? Anyway, you’re off playing Count Dracula with your emo eyeliner and depression thing and you expect me to sit and what, wank for a week?’

‘You can’t go two days without sex?’

‘The point is I don’t see why I should just because you take off. And I haven’t fucked another guy since New Zealand, so I really don’t know what you’re getting all menstrual about.’

‘Are all Norse gods nymphomaniacs?’

‘Yes, I think they are, and you should meet those goddess slags, god, when I was with Helen my dick hurt, actually hurt. And this is what I’m fighting, John. Thousands of years of history, so don’t judge me, Mr fucking Batman.’

‘Batman?’

‘It’s my new name for you when you’re being a dramatic twat.’

‘Cheers. What do I call you? Twat-man? Seems appropriate.’

‘You’re not funny, you’re about as funny as Mike.’

They stood facing each other, trying to laugh off the conversation that was coming. The analysis of their fucked up relationship, or maybe it wasn’t the relationship, maybe that was the perfect thing, it was the rest of them that was fucked up. Anders stood close to Mitchell, kissed his lips. Mitchell found his anger slipping away, he didn’t have the energy to summon it back, he knew Anders would want to fuck and forget about it all, lie in the tangled sheets and pretend everything was fine. But that was so appealing now, wash away the others, immerse himself in Anders.

‘You’re the only one I really want, John.’ Another kiss, deeper, a hand around his waist. It was safe, it was warm, it was home and Mitchell gave in and let himself be kissed and pushed back onto the bed.

Anders made short work on Mitchell’s shirt and raked his hands over his darkly haired chest.

‘Just you,’ Anders whispered, Bragi’s voice on his lips. ‘Always you.’

‘You know that doesn’t work on me.’ More kisses, deeper, more urgent, goading Anders into testing his power again.

‘It might.’

‘I like it, do it again.’

‘Just you, nobody else comes close. You’re always the one I come home to,’ Bragi whispered.

‘Like Batman and Robin?’

They pulled apart, laughter stopping their kisses.

‘You are shorter than me, Robin,’ Mitchell shrugged.

‘Oh that’s nice, play the height card, you’re not exactly a fucking giant, you dick.’

They laughed again, Mitchell ran his hands over Anders’s back. ‘Why the other girls? I know why with Gaia, you know why with me, but what about the others? What’s that about?’

‘Does it matter? It’s only when you’re not here.’

‘Why can’t you just watch something online and have a wank like a normal person?’

Anders lay back and sighed, Mitchell could tell he didn’t want this conversation, he wanted John to hold him, fuck him and erase the memory of Gaia.

Mitchell propped himself up on his elbow, eyebrows creased.  He was torn between wanting to know and wanting to forget. He was sure he hadn’t slept with Jane now, touched her sure, but no more, they’d been too into the blood. Why did Anders have to tell him about the others and make his gut writhe with jealousy? Why couldn’t he hide it better, the stupid bastard? Anders sighed beside him, evidently annoyed that he couldn’t use sex to avoid the conversation. He wasn’t great at talking about things, he was worse than Mitchell in fact.

‘Honestly? Because I can’t stand the thought of what you do and it distracts me, I don’t think about you when I’m with them, John. It’s not like you’re off visiting your mum, or on a business trip. You’re off drinking the blood of some stupid kinky freak you met online, probably fucking them, maybe killing them.’

‘Not killing them. We have a system now and they’re always in pairs, there’s a safety mechanism, Carl has used it for years and not killed.’ Mitchell sounded a lot more certain about this than he felt. What did they say, repeat the lie often enough and it becomes true?

‘But you’re fucking them?’

‘I don’t know, I can’t remember,’ he lied. Anders gave an empty laugh. ‘I’ve tried really hard to keep it separate.’

‘You’re like some kind of blood whore then? Well, I hate it, it makes me feel sick, and the best way to forget is to get laid.’

‘Jesus, Anders, this is the best I can do. If I stop completely it’s dangerous. Things can happen.’ He looked at Anders, his hair was curling, blond at the ends, his eyes were searching, bluer than he remembered.

‘What? What can happen?’

‘I could do something terrible. It’s happened before, that’s all you need to know.’

‘You think I’d be surprised? You think you can shock me?’ Anders ran his fingers over Mitchell’s chest, raking through the hair. ‘You should know by now nothing can shock me, John.’ His cocky smirk was back as he reached downwards and pulled Mitchell to him.

Mitchell pulled back from his embrace shaking his head, serious and stern.  ‘Anders, I’ve done things that would disgust you so much you’d never look at me again. I couldn’t bear that. You’re the only person I have anymore.’ He paused. ‘It happened before, in Bristol, things happened and my friends never wanted to see me again, the woman I loved was repelled by me. I couldn’t stand that happening again.’

Anders swallowed. It wasn’t just the emotional honesty, terrifying at any time, but the inference Mitchell made, Mitchell could tell it made his blood run cold.

‘John, stop it.’

‘You need to realise …this isn’t a game. I do what I have to do to keep myself safe, it’s not about you. I hate hurting you, I promise.’ Mitchell stroked Anders hair, held his gaze, kissed him softly. ‘You’re everything to me.’ Another kiss, trying to kiss away the pain and the intensity with something familiar and safe.

He rolled on top of Anders and pressed against him. ‘I need you.’ More kisses. ‘Feel how much I need you.’ Mitchell took Anders hand, kissed it, then firmly guided it to his cock, groaning as Anders defences dissolved and he stroked Mitchell, returning his fevered kisses.

It was rougher than their usual sex, both men excising their demons and frustrations, Mitchell huffing angrily when Anders attempted to roll him on to his stomach, before flipping Anders over himself and pinning him down. Mitchell held him firmly as he fucked him, grateful that Anders’s head was buried in the pillow so he couldn’t see how frequently his eyes flashed black every time he had a flash of Anders with someone else, and that it was his fangs that lightly scraped the skin of Anders’ back.               

 


	7. I am Bragi, god of poetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Bragi bend Mitchell to his will?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draugr is an undead creature in Norse mythology.
> 
> Thank you to Lancette for her help as ever and picking up the plot holes and things I miss.

Mitchell stood at the door nervously, it was silly really, he’d been here hundreds of times, he had a toothbrush in the bathroom, clothes in the wardrobe and food in the cupboards. But it felt right to knock, after last night and sneaking out at daylight.

He’d walked for miles after leaving Anders’s flat at dawn, thinking, until his feet hurt and he was lost. It all came back to the blood, it cursed him and ruined everything he’d ever had with anyone. All the people he’d loved were gone, were lost to him one way or another and Anders would go the same way. He’d thought long about Charlotte’s words too, which he’d forgotten amidst Jane, Anders and the blood. It was payback time. But it sounded like she wanted more than just him back in the fold. Somehow she knew about Anders and what he was, maybe Old Ones did. He should have asked Jane, if he hadn’t been too busy indulging. _Idiot_ , Mitchell thought, again cursing both his weakness and his desire for Jane and what she meant.

He’d sat in a park, he had no idea which one by the time he got there, staring at the larger sticks, wondering how long it would take to sharpen the end, make a stake. He could end it all like he should have done in Bristol. Should have done years ago. No more killing, no more being a slave to the blood lust and no more being an accessory, or more, to megalomaniac vampires and their crazy schemes. He had a fair idea Charlotte wanted him as part enforcer, part glorious role model and part cautionary tale. He wouldn’t allow it, he’d end it and make the girl with the lithe limbs and blue eyes, the girl Jane had so neatly sunk her fangs into, his last victim.

But then his phone had bleeped. _Are you ok? I’m sorry, come home x_ And Mitchell had found his courage, because there was another option, fate had given him an extraordinary chance with an extraordinary man, he had the chance of not only love, but of controlling the blood lust in a way he’d never tried before. And there was Anders, infuriating, funny, cute, crude, sexy, selfish, careless and charming. He was also his. Anders needed him, he might not love him yet, like Mitchell loved him, but he needed loving. There was something in Anders that drew Mitchell in, a vulnerability he kept well hidden. He couldn’t just disappear, leave Anders to find his clothes covered in a pile of dust.

So now he stood holding a plastic bag containing two fish with big flouncy red fins, with a lump in his throat and a stray curl falling across his face. The last time he’d been in a pet shop he’d been buying a fish for Lucy. He’d nearly walked out when he remembered, but this was different, this was for Anders, who already knew what he was. He wondered now if Lucy’s fish really had died or if that too had been a ruse to lure him in. Anders fish were different, he loved his fish, he gave them names and talked about different types, he’d pointed these ones out a couple of times, declaring them ‘really cool’. He wanted to get something to show Anders he cared, fuck Lucy, she wasn’t screwing this up for him too.  Mitchell lifted a gloved hand to tuck the hair behind his ear when the door opened.

‘Oh, did you lose your key?’ Anders asked with surprise upon seeing Mitchell.

‘No, I wasn’t sure, well, I didn’t want to presume, after last night?’ Mitchell said, nervous.

‘Last night?’ Anders bounded up the stairs to the floor his flat was on and let Mitchell follow in his wake. Only when they were safely inside the actual apartment did he speak again. ‘I thought we were ok about last night?’ Anders shrugged, trying to make light of the previous day’s drama.

‘Anders,’ Mitchell took his arm and squeezed it lightly. ‘It’s not ok, not just like that.’

Anders looked at him, his eyes becoming almost imperceptibly harder, his body stiffening slightly.

‘I’m really, really sorry,’ Mitchell went on. ‘I’m sorry for everything, for disappearing, for what I did… for being such a hypocrite about Idunn.’ He stepped closer to a now surprised Anders. ‘I um, yeah,  and I, here, look this is to say sorry, well they are to say sorry.’

He thrust the fish forward into Anders hands. ‘Thank you,’ Anders said, for once lost for words as he held the bag up and watched the bright fish. ‘They’re Siamese Fighting Fish. Did you know I wanted these ones?’

‘Are they the right ones?’

‘Yeah,’ Anders smiled and gave him a peck on the lips before busying himself transferring the fish to the tank. He stood by the tank watching them, looking things up on his phone and checking his fish food, for what seemed like ages to Mitchell who sat awkwardly on the edge of the sofa until Anders eventually came over to him and sat beside him, turning to face him and drawing Mitchell towards him with a hand on his arm. Anders picked up Mitchell’s hand and held it, looking as if he was going to say something several times, before shaking his head and kissing Mitchell’s knuckles instead.

‘What is it?’ Mitchell asked. ‘Are the fish ok? They’re the wrong ones aren’t they?’ he winced.

‘They’re perfect,’ Anders said, smiling softly. ‘You remembered. I don’t think anyone’s ever remembered something like that before.’

Mitchell cupped Anders face with one hand and stroked his cheek. ‘Maybe nobody’s loved you like I do,’ he murmured. Mitchell kissed him softly and gently bumped their foreheads together.

‘I do too,’ Anders stammered. ‘Love you that is.’

This time Mitchell’s kiss was fierce and he wrapped his arms around Anders tightly.

‘Hey, you’re squashing me,’ Anders cried, laughing, burying his face in Mitchell’s shoulder. After a few moments they faced each other again.

‘I’m sorry too,’ Anders said. ‘For Idunn, and the others. I don’t want to anymore, I don’t want anyone else. Just you.’

‘Me too,’ Mitchell said, nodding furiously, cupping Anders’ face again. ‘I don’t want to do any of it, I never did, I’m just scared to stop, but I can’t… I always want it.’

‘I wish I could help you, I wish I could talk you round like I can everyone else.’ Anders laughed drily.

‘You could!’ Mitchell seized on this opening, he’d been dreading bring it up, in case Anders felt he was being used, but now Anders had suggested it his heart raced. ‘You could talk me out of it.’ He was sitting up, grabbing Anders’ hands and looking at him earnestly.

‘It doesn’t work on you,’ Anders said, a sad smile on his face.

‘It does, it does. Remember in your office, you got me to jerk off?’

‘When?’

‘That night I’d sucked you off and you were _still_ horny,’ Mitchell was blushing.

‘You’ve given me loads of blow jobs in my office,’ Anders shrugged. Mitchell groaned.

‘You know, you’d sent Dawn home early.’

‘I often send Dawn home so you can suck me off,’ Anders smirked. Mitchell rolled his eyes, sighing.

‘Anders! You know, the night we went on the London Eye. You got me to do, _that._ I wouldn’t do that without, you know, a ummm, helping hand. _’_

 Anders nodded, remembering. ‘It was really hot, but that wasn’t me, must’ve been you wanted to.’

‘Honestly, I didn’t, I never do that, not just like that, without, you know, help, I was so embarrassed.’

‘God, the way you looked at me,’ Anders gave a little moan and kissed him, his tongue pushing Mitchell’s lips apart. Mitchell gently pulled away and faced Anders.

‘I think it could work, you said it doesn’t work on gods, but I’m not a god and you said your powers are getting stronger.’

Anders nodded, thoughtful now. ‘What would I say?’

‘You could tell me not to drink blood, that I don’t want it, I don’t need it and I won’t have it.’ Mitchell slid off the sofa and knelt between Anders’ knees, kissed his knuckles again as he held his hands. ‘Please, please you have to try, I can’t live like this. I can’t carry on like this,’ his eyes filled with tears as he spoke. ‘I’m a monster, I’m a disease and I’m a murderer and I don’t want to be, I don’t want to kill again and I know it’s a matter of time, it’s just time. Carl won’t let me feed with him anymore, he thinks I’m a liability and I’m so scared of what I could do.’ He looked up at Anders with tears trickling down his face. ‘Please, my love, you’re my last hope, or, or… or…’

‘Or what?’

‘I can’t carry on. I can’t.’

‘Don’t say that, John, don’t be silly.’ Anders squirmed. He looked away from Mitchell’s tear stained face, starting to feel sick.

‘Anders, please try. What is there to lose?’

‘Do you trust me?’ Anders looked at Mitchell hard, searching.

‘What do you mean?’

‘If this works, I could tell you anything, like I could make you, I don’t know, wear that sexy red vest even on a cold day, or suck me off every morning.’

Mitchell laughed through his tears. ‘I would gladly do that for you.’

‘I’m serious, I could tell you anything.’

‘But you won’t, will you?’

‘How do you know?’

‘I trust you,’ Mitchell put his arms around Anders’ neck and drew him towards him for a kiss. ‘I’ll hide the vest in case, but you’ve always been so good to me.’

Anders let himself be embraced. ‘But what if I stopped? I mean what if it doesn’t last forever,’

‘Then keep doing it.’

Anders pushed Mitchell back from their embrace so they were looking at one another. ‘What if I can’t, what if we split up?’

‘No, no, I’ll always love you, you’re so special, god, I love you so much, Anders, please don’t say that.’ Mitchell swallowed, feeling sick.

‘Then what if I die? One day I will die, I’m not immortal, and I’ll get old and then you won’t want me.’

‘I’ll always want you, I promise, my love,’ Mitchell whispered. Anders had unknowingly voiced one of his fears, that even if this worked and he and Anders would be happy, Anders would grow old and he’d have to watch Anders die.  ‘But it would stop me killing anyone now anyway. Please.’

Anders looked at Mitchell, at the face staring up at him, the pleading eyes. He bit his lip, if he did this thing there was no backing out, no flitting off, no changing his mind. It was a commitment and not just any commitment, it would have been easier to get married, at least divorce was relatively quick and painless. There was also the feeling he had deep down that it might just work. He could feel Bragi was stronger these days, it was so easy now to talk people into doing what he wanted, almost too easy, the fun was going out of it. It scared him, to have Mitchell’s life and god knows how many other lives in his hands. He wouldn’t be able to stop, it would be his fault if Mitchell went and killed someone, and Anders knew his powers didn’t last forever, he’d learnt that the hard way. What had Mitchell said? He couldn’t go on. Anders loved him and now he’d said those words at last the full depth of how much he loved him hit him, washed over him in waves and he knew he couldn’t lose this man.

Anders nodded slowly, it was way too much, way too soon, but what choice did he have? Mitchell would kill someone else or kill himself if he didn’t. He swallowed down the sick feeling rising in his stomach as a grateful smile spread over Mitchell’s face, followed by more tears.

‘Right, look at me,’ Anders said, his voice shaking a little.

‘What now?’

‘No time like the present. Hey, stop all this,’ he irritably wiped at Mitchell’s tears with his hands.

‘Sorry,’ Mitchell sniffed, wiping his face with his sleeve and looking at Anders again.

‘ _Listen to me,’_ Bragi said, his voice firm and strong. ‘ _I am Bragi, god of poetry and you will bend to my will,_ _draugr. You will not drink blood, you will not want to drink blood. You will not kill anyone.’_

Mitchell sat rapt, his eyes fixed on Anders. He wasn’t aware of anything else in the room, just Anders’ lips and the sound of his voice. His voice seemed to penetrate Mitchell’s entire body and mind, there was nothing but Anders.

 _‘No more blood, not ever, under any circumstances. You don’t need it and you don’t want it.’_ Anders put a hand out to stroke Mitchell’s face and bit his lip. ‘ _And don’t kill yourself, because I love you and need you. You need to stick around, okay? Now if you’ve got all that say yes, and, erm, give me a kiss.’_

Anders sat back and watched Mitchell say yes softly before leaning up to kiss him softly on the lips.

‘Did you do it?’ Mitchell asked.

‘Yeah, I just … you don’t remember?’ Anders was sure he’d said something unconsciously, or rather Bragi had, what the fuck was a draugr? Some Norse crap no doubt.

‘You spoke, I know that. Hey, don’t look so worried, I’m not going to do anything silly, I know you love me and I love you too.’ Mitchell smiled and hugged Anders.

‘How will you know if it’s worked?’

‘I don’t want blood now,’ Mitchell said, smiling at the realisation.

‘You never want mine, what about….’ Anders stood up and went to the window, Mitchell followed him. Anders pointed to a girl on her phone outside, pacing back and forth. ‘What about her? You want her blood?’

Mitchell looked at her and shook his head. ‘No, I don’t.’ His face, still tear stained and blotchy broke into a huge grin.

‘What about him?’ Anders pointed to a man jogging past. ‘Ohh, nice arse on that one,’ Anders said with a low whistle. Mitchell slapped his backside.

‘No, I don’t.’ Mitchell grinned and hugged Anders. ‘I really don’t.’ It seemed too good to be true, that almost a century of bloodlust could go away just like that. Anders frowned at Mitchell, uncertain,

‘Hey, hey, calm down, my sweet creature of the night, I think we need to test this further. Get your Oyster card.’

~

It was several hours later when they finally got round to eating. They’d been on the tube, all over the place, in rush hour and Mitchell had not one craving for blood. They’d stopped for drinks in Leicester Square in the worst and most packed rip off tourist bar and still no cravings. Mitchell was light with it, heady and giddy. He felt as if he was walking on the clouds and his world was nothing but sunshine. He couldn’t stop smiling, or from kissing Anders. They’d got home about seven and fallen straight into bed, Mitchell unable to keep his hands off Anders a second longer. There weren’t enough ways in the world he could show Anders how much he loved him, but making love was the closest he could get to being in his skin, to them being one.

Now Mitchell finally sat up, peeling his sweaty damp skin away from Anders’ body, they’d been pressed together, sticky and wet for what seemed like hours. He leaned over to the bedside table and grabbed a cigarette, lit it and leaned back against the headboard, glancing at Anders, who was watching him, still sprawled out, head on the pillow.

‘Hungry?’ Mitchell asked.

‘A bit,’ Anders said, hand reaching out to rest on Mitchell’s hip. Mitchell picked it up and held it. ‘I can’t believe it was so easy,’ Anders said again. ‘I mean, _I_  wanted to kill everyone in Leicester Square, I can’t believe you didn’t.’ Mitchell smiled at him softly.

‘Thank you,’ Mitchell said again. ‘I think you saved me.’

‘It’ll wear off,’ Anders warned again.

‘But you can do it again. Anders, just a few words, it’s amazing. Meeting you, it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.’

Anders looked at Mitchell, who was fixing him with the most intense and adoring gaze and soft smile. He closed his eyes and snuggled up to Mitchell instead, feeling the weight of it was too much for him.

‘You want pizza?’ Anders asked.

‘I want you,’ Mitchell whispered, grinning. Anders laughed.

‘You’ve had that course quite a lot this evening.’

He stretched and grabbed his phone from the floor, opening the pizza app. ‘Usual?’ Anders asked.

‘I’ll have a cheese crust tonight I think,’ Mitchell said thoughtfully. ‘Or maybe not, what are you having?’

‘Meat feast. Again.’ Anders sniggered at his joke and snuggled next to Mitchell. ‘So, pepperoni with a stuffed crust and deep pan meat feast. You want chips?’

‘Nah, I’m good.’

Anders finished his order and continued to fiddle on his phone. ‘I have a million bloody messages, ah, Mike.’

‘What does he want?’ Mitchell asked.

‘He says, ‘are you ok?’ Well, yes, why shouldn’t I be?’ Anders rolled his eyes. ‘He sends me weird messages every now and then, usually after talking to Ty. I wonder what Ty told him this time? Oh, of course.’ Anders laughed to himself.

‘What?’

‘You. I told Dawn and she’ll have told Ty by now, who’ll have told Mike.’

‘About me?’

‘Well, yeah. Not about the vampire thing, just the _us_ thing.’

‘Ok,’ Mitchell smiled to himself. ‘Do they know you like guys?’

‘Dawn didn’t, Mike does, pretty sure Ty does, it’ll probably come as a surprise to the almighty Odin though,’ Anders laughed. ‘Anyway, Mike’s probably feeling out the loop. I’ll just reply.’

‘What are you writing?’ Mitchell asked with suspicion at the glee on Anders’ face.

‘Hi Mike, stop interrupting my sex sessions with my hot vampire, I’m good. Hope Michele’s still putting out for you.’

‘You’ve actually sent that?’

‘Yeah,’ Anders sniggered. ‘Oh don’t look so worried, it’s late, he’ll assume I’m drunk. Anyway, forget about Mike, he’s pussy whipped and I have you.’

‘You told him I’m a vampire?’

‘He’ll never believe it, don’t worry. Anyway, come on, up you get, Dracula, we’re not having pizza in bed, I don’t care how cute your arse is.’

~

So life stumbled on, the seasons bled into one another until Mitchell got out his scarf and shivered at home and went to Anders’ place to keep warm and Anders complained endlessly about the cold and wet, missed home and Dawn brought fan heaters for the office. Carl carried on carefully drinking the blood of his willing victims, who asked after the wild dark one, and were secretly relieved he wasn’t around to frighten them. Charlotte Campbell remembered the debts Mitchell owed her and counted them carefully in her ancient mind, her friend Jane patiently waited for Mitchell to crack as he always did, watching Bragi from a distance and wondering what it would be like to fuck an actual god.

By the time Bonfire Night lit the sky up with bursts of light and the cracks and bangs of fireworks filled the air every night for a week Mitchell had changed from the wreck that Anders had met by chance all those months ago. His brooding moods hadn’t gone away entirely, but there was a fullness and purpose in his heart again. Freed from the blood lust for the first time since nineteen-seventeen, he was no longer constantly fighting the monster inside him, he could finally let himself love Anders the way he had wanted to for months. Mitchell was in love, happily and hopelessly in love and Anders was the lucky recipient of his affections and care. It was a precious thing to Mitchell, to have someone to care for.

It was a strange thing, he sort of knew what Anders said to him, but couldn’t remember, he knew that afterwards he felt lighter and as if invisible chains had been lifted from him. It seemed too easy, but it took barely a minute. Sometimes he could go a fortnight, sometimes only a few days before he would feel the heavy descent of darkness in his heart, the clawing hunger and need, that animalistic desire raw and livid. Then his stomach would tighten and he’d feel sick with fear and grief, seeing a stake in every piece of wood until his beloved Anders, his saviour, his god, spoke to him again and brought back his humanity. It was so simple, a few little words tripping off his quick tongue and Mitchell was human, or as close to human as he’d ever get.

And how did you repay a man who saved you from living hell? You loved him, not just with ordinary love, but with hopeless, reckless, heedless love.  Mitchell gave him everything he could, he called him his boyfriend, showered him with affection, brought his favourite foods, indulged his whims for cruising clubs to see if they could pull girls without Bragi. He’d found it surprisingly easy to suppress his jealousy now Anders was doing this thing for him, besides there was the fun of the game, Anders flirted, eyed Mitchell, teased him. Mitchell watched and played his own game, counting up the sins in his mind and making Anders pay for every last one in the best possible way when they got home.  They always pulled and they always left with each other, laughing like teenagers or desperately pulling at each other’s clothes in the back of a taxi, Anders high on the thrill of the chase, Mitchell in utter delights at being in a club and flirting with pretty young women without the tiniest desire to tear their throats out.

They went on weekends away without guilt or pretending it was for work, Mitchell brought Anders coffee in his office, sat with his arm around him as he drank it, smiled indulgently as Anders talked Dawn into an unnecessary errand and sweetly complied when Anders looked down at his stiffening cock and grinned. Mitchell’s body and soul belonged to his saviour and he was also fast developing a blindness to Anders’ many faults that would have alarmed him only weeks ago. Anders was the sun, and Mitchell’s world revolved around him, which was fortunate as Anders’ world revolved around Anders too.

‘I can’t move,’ Anders groaned as Mitchell kissed his shoulders. ‘How can you be awake?’

‘Horny,’ Mitchell shrugged.

‘You’re always horny. I’m still recovering from last night, you’re an animal. I need coffee too,’ Anders groaned, his hangover kicking in. ‘And paracetamol. And a bacon roll.’

Mitchell laughed. ‘Then can I lick you open?’ he whispered in Anders’ ear.

‘You want to do that after last night? Rather you than me.’ Anders rolled over to face Mitchell, who looked unfairly good in the morning light. Maybe being scruffy all the time meant he didn’t do bad morning hair, it was just like that. They looked at each other and laughed.

‘I’ll get you coffee,’ Mitchell said, stroking Anders’ hair back from his face. ‘You wait here, my love,’ he kissed him softly before rolling out of bed. He was back a few minutes later with coffee and a bacon roll from the Polish café and paracetamol.

‘I knew there was a reason I love you,’ Anders groaned, sitting up and gratefully sipping the coffee. ‘Apart from your gorgeous arse.’

Mitchell smiled at him. ‘I love you too,’ he said softly. Anders looked up, surprised and shrugged, embarrassed. He hadn’t meant to say that, it slipped out, it was only the second time he’d said it. He squirmed and felt nauseous and he didn’t think it was just the hangover.

‘So fucking gay,’ Anders said, rolling his eyes. ‘Christ, what was I drinking last night?’

‘We were drinking vodka, you insisted on going to a vodka bar.’

‘Whoever said vodka doesn’t give you hangovers is a fucking liar. How come you’re ok?’

‘Maybe because I got somewhere with my girl.’

‘You didn’t even cop a feel!’ Anders cried.

‘That’s because I’m not a sleaze who gropes a girl’s breasts in public! But she talked to me for nearly an hour, so I win.’

‘Bollocks, I win because mine brought me drinks.’

‘Which is why you have the hangover.’

‘She brought me drinks because she was so desperate for a ride on this,’ he said, pointing to his crotch. Mitchell threw his head back and laughed.

‘I didn’t even see her, you’re making her up, you sat getting drunk because I was winning, because Anders Johnson, I have something called charm and know how to treat a lady.’

‘Mitchell, I hate to break it to you, you’re just hot, you’re a trampy weirdo with bad taste in TV shows who happens to be outrageously handsome.’

Mitchell looked at Anders, nose half turned up unsure whether to laugh or be insulted. ‘Is that a compliment?’

‘I have style and charm and mine was much hotter than yours. Didn’t think you were into blondes?’

‘I’m into you.’

‘Blonde chicks. Anyway, mine was as dark as you and much hotter.’ Mitchell rolled his eyes at Anders.

‘We should stop doing this, it’s demeaning,’ Mitchell said shaking his head and giving Anders a withering look.

‘I don’t feel demeaned.’

‘Not to us, to women.’

‘How so? We’re doing them a favour, I mean taking two hot guys like us off the market is cruel, we’re just giving back to society. You know what’s demeaning?’

‘I’m sure you’re going to tell me,’ Mitchell said, sighing and lighting up before sitting back next to Anders, looking at him with a cocked eyebrow.

‘Not following through. I mean how would you feel if I teased you all night and didn’t let you have a bit of cock?’

Mitchell burst out laughing. ‘You’re ridiculous. And that would never happen,’ he leaned into Anders ear and whispered wickedly. ‘You know what I’d do if you did that,’ he warned, his voice dangerous as his teeth scraped the shell of Anders’ ear.

‘Ohh, sexy, might try it,’ Anders said with a shudder than wasn’t entirely feigned. ‘But the point is, we’re denying the women folk, John. Have you completely ruled out a threesome?’

‘You’re ridiculous. Anyway, I win last night as I didn’t even see mystery woman, so you’re probably making her up or used Bragi.’

‘Have it your own way, I win you.’

This time Mitchell’s laugh was full of affection. ‘You do. Now, is there anything else I can get you?’

‘Will you do my emails for me?’ Anders asked, eyes widening and lips pouting slightly.

Mitchell groaned. ‘Really?’

‘I kind of didn’t yesterday and you love Dawn so much, you’re doing her the favour really.’

‘Okay, okay,’ Mitchell agreed, after all what was too much for Anders?

‘Just print off any new clients for me to call, forward anything financial and any complaints to Dawn and delete any moaning fucking actors moaning about the fucking stupid fashion show. Or kill them, with my blessing. Oh, and anything from my family file in the recycle bin. Axl’s full of endless shit about the Frigg hunt, complete waste of time, he wants me to organise a fake beer commercial to find her, that boy better have more brains as Odin or we’re all fucked. ’ Anders said to Mitchell’s withering look as he opened Ander’s laptop. ‘I’m going to have a bit more sleep, now,’ Anders continued, giving a little yawn. ‘Fancy fucking when I wake up?’

‘You’re going to pay for that,’ Mitchell growled, eyebrows knitted together.

‘That’s what I’m hoping,’ he replied with a wink before snuggling down in the bed and closing his eyes, grinning smugly.

 


	8. You're dating a vampire, I mean, this could complicate things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders is struggling with commitment, can a night out the town with Mitchell in pursuit of the ladies ease his troubles?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the lovely Lancette again for her encouragement and picking up my mistakes, any that are left are mine.

**Six weeks later**

Anders flopped down on his settee with a beer and closed his eyes, sighing.

‘Sit on that one,’ he ordered Ty, pointing to the other sofa without opening his eyes. ‘I do not want to be touched by another person for at least an hour. Is that too much to ask?’

‘No, I guess,’ Ty said, raising a puzzled eyebrow. ‘You going to tell me what this is about?’

‘John!’ Anders groaned. ‘He’s all over me, like every minute of the day.’

‘I thought you liked him?’

‘I do, but I like my space too, I like to sometimes sit on my own, without him cuddling me like a baby koala.’

‘He doesn’t look like a koala to me,’ Ty laughed.

‘Well he bloody clings like one. Oh Christ, Ty, he’s turning into a fucking woman. Not literally, obviously, that would defeat the point of him, but oh God! Why does this always happen?’ Anders cried.

‘What?’

‘He wants to spend every minute with me, cuddling me mainly. I know I’m gorgeous, but come on!’

‘That’s strange I’ll admit,’ Ty laughed. ‘Oh come on, you obviously adore the guy. I mean when was the last time you kept anyone around for more than a few days, you even got fed up with Helen after a few days.’

‘This is nothing like that,’ Anders said quickly. ‘This is real. But, I like things light you know. He’s into all this… he brings me lunch if I forget it, I mean even when he’s worked nights, that’s fucking insane. I’m actually relieved when he’s at work. And he’s practically moved in.’

‘So you’re exclusive now?’

‘Yeah,’ Anders said uncertainly. ‘I mean, is that normal?’

‘Yes, Anders, that’s normal for two people in love.’

‘But for two guys? I mean he doesn’t seriously expect me never to have pussy again?’

‘You’re all class, aren’t you?’ Ty rolled his eyes. ‘I don’t know! Ask him!’

‘Hmmm, I better not, don’t want to upset him.’

‘And what’s all this shit you’re telling Mike? Talking of upsetting people?’

‘What?’

‘That you’re dating a vampire?’

‘Yeah,’ Anders said slowly.

‘Well pack it in.’ Ty sighed and took a long swig of beer. ‘Look Anders, you have a good guy here, don’t fuck it up by being a dick.’

‘It’s just a bit intense, in fact he’s acting a bit like you with Dawn. No wonder it’s freaking me out.’

‘What’s that meant to mean?’

‘Stalkerish, turning up at work to _say hi_ , bringing me presents, hugging me, looking at me like… like he’s going to propose or something.’

‘That’s harsh. And it’s not stalking, it’s caring. I love Dawn and it sounds like Mitchell loves you. I mean, apart from his questionable taste, what’s wrong with that?’

‘It’s just suffocating. I mean, I like John, a lot, I maybe even love him.’ Ty gave Anders a withering look. ‘Okay, I love him, but I’d love him more if I had ten minutes in a day when he wasn’t all over me.’ Anders sighed. ‘And I can’t say anything because he’s … he’s so happy.’

‘Because of you?’

‘Yeah.’

Ty put his beer down and rested his head in his hands. ‘What is wrong with you?’ he finally asked. ‘You finally find someone you’re happy to be with for more than two nights and you’re moaning because he’s in love with you. What do you _want_ , Anders?’

Anders shrugged. ‘Hot sex and no commitment.’ He didn’t add _without talking him out of killing himself or anyone else every few days._ Christ, it was too much, Ty thought he just wanted casual sex, which he’d finally realised he didn’t, at least not with Mitchell. But this, using Bragi, the desperation when it wore off, then the gratitude, the suffocating, relentless dependency. Already Anders found it too much, Mitchell needed Bragi and Anders needed freedom. Dawn wanted to book him on a business trip to Edinburgh for a week, but he couldn’t go without Mitchell, because by Wednesday Mitchell would be craving either blood or a sharp wooden stick and neither option was appealing. It was all too much, as was the effect it was having on Anders.

Bragi was stronger than Anders had ever felt him, which was another reason he wanted to talk to his brother. Anders could feel Bragi there all the time, business had never been smoother, Dawn never happier in her work, in fact his whole life was plain sailing,  nobody argued with him, nobody contradicted him and the god inside him was loving it, it was as if he thrived off being used, really used and tested. He even heard himself saying stuff he wasn’t aware of, using Norse words he didn’t even know. The same word again and again, _draugr_. He’d googled it, but didn’t know how to spell it so got nothing that made sense. He needed oracle advice, but Olaf was useless in person, never mind on skype from the other side of the world.

‘Well, time to grow up,’ Ty snapped, breaking Anders reverie. ‘And perhaps you should appreciate what you have, a really great guy who adores you. It could be worse.’

‘He is gorgeous and the sex is great, I mean really great, like mindblowingly hot. Hotter than with a goddess.’

‘That is hot,’ Ty conceded. ‘And about as much as I need to know about your sex life before you carry on.’

‘Hey, talking of the godly side of things, have you noticed your powers getting stronger?’

‘No, thankfully. Have you?’

‘It’s probably just my natural charm.’

Ty scowled at Anders. ‘What’s happened?’

‘You know I told Mike that John’s a vampire?’

‘Yeah, you’re such a dick.’

‘Well he is.’

‘What?’

‘A vampire.’

‘Who?’

‘John, you egg!’

‘What?’

‘Unfreeze your brain and listen. Mitchell, my John, is a vampire.’

‘What the fuck? He doesn’t look like one. Do they even exist?’

‘Yes, and they have huge cocks.’

Ty looked up, his face seemingly paler than usual. ‘Are you fucking about?’

‘No, he’s a vampire.’

‘Is he dangerous?’

‘Not anymore, I have him under control, with, um, my powers.’

‘But he was? He’s killed people?’

‘In the past, he’s a bloody vampire, it’s what they do, like sharks or tigers, who are beautiful too by the way.’

‘And you let him near Dawn!’ Ty exploded. ‘I’m going to fucking kill him!’

Anders winced. He should have realised, of course Ty wasn’t going take it well, he’d forgotten about Dawn.

‘Then I’m going to kill you! How could you? You know he’s a risk to Dawn and you leave him alone with her! And what about you? Is he going to kill you? Make you one?’

‘No, no, no. He’s no threat to us, he doesn’t want my blood. I’m a god, Ty, we’re not mortal.’

‘Dawn is!’

‘He saved Dawn, he’s been with her loads, he’s not an animal. He’s got it under control, they don’t just run around randomly munching on the first person they meet. He hates being a vampire, he’s like you, he hates it and what it does to him. For fuck’s sake.’ Anders shook his head, annoyed. ‘Sit down and calm down, Christ, Ty, it’s freezing in here.’ Anders blew out and watched his warm breath, now visible in the air made freezing by Ty’s anger. ‘Dawn’s safe, he’s not a risk.’

‘How’s that?’

‘Because I’m talking him out of wanting to drink blood, with my powers and it’s working. So, um, yeah, I think my powers are getting stronger, it’s like a workout for Bragi I guess, gets tested on a vampire rather than just a mortal.’

‘So he knows about us?’

‘Of course he does, I knew there was something about him when he walked in with Dawn that day. He knew too, because he didn’t want my blood. And he really fancied me,’ Anders added, smirking.

Ty sat down, looking calmer. ‘So, your powers work on him?’

‘Not at first, which is how I guessed he wasn’t mortal. But now it seems they do, my powers are getting stronger, I’m not sure why. Axl’s not found his Frigg.’

‘Maybe Axl’s getting stronger?’

‘Maybe he’s banging loads of goddesses and now he’s less useless his Odin powers are kicking in, I mean we lost our powers when he got sick, so if he’s doing his godly duty, like the all-powerful father of the Aesir should, and nailing the ladies one by one until one turns out to be our Frigglet, finally becoming a man and a god, our powers increase. In fact that might be why it’s so fucking freezing in this Goddammed country, you’re causing global freezing.’

‘Ha ha. And why is becoming a man all about banging people with you?’

‘Well you wouldn’t understand because you’re a pussy and you hardly bang any ladies. Hey, I love the irony that everyone thought you were the gay one, with the cupcakes and not getting laid thing, when all along I’m the one who was banging guys, bam, bam, bam,’ Anders laughed to himself as Ty shook his head, cringing at Anders.

‘You’re such a dick, and kind of homophobic for a gay guy.’

‘Just telling it like it is, bro. And technically I’m bisexual, because I have nailed hundreds of women.’

‘Good for you. Anyway, back to Axl. It’s possible I guess, that he’s getting stronger. Have you asked Mike?’

‘Nah, he’ll get all stressy, you know how he is. And he has that insidious slag Sjorfn around still.’

‘What about Grandpa?’

Anders looked at Ty with his eyebrows raised. ‘Have you ever tried to talk to Grandpa on Skype?’

‘Okay, but maybe if you tell him in advance it’s oracle stuff?’

‘I’d have better luck asking the fish.’

‘You may have a point,’ Ty conceded, glancing at Anders’ fish. ‘You got new ones?’

‘Siamese Fighting Fish, they’re called Edward and Vlad.’ He laughed as Ty’s face screwed up in incomprehension.

‘John got them for me, so I named them after Dracula and that twat in Twilight.’ Anders smiled.

‘That’s poor taste!’

‘John thinks it’s hilarious.’

‘Well, I already know he has questionable taste. Going back to the vampire thing, you’re sure he’s safe?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you’re going to keep doing this, to keep him safe?’

‘Yeah, I guess so.’

Ty took a long swig of beer. ‘Can he turn into a bat? How’s it work?’

‘Nah, not bats, he can’t fly. He drinks blood, or did. They crave it, sort of like an addiction I guess. And he sort of vamps up and his eyes go black all over and he gets these fangs,’ Anders spoke in an almost reverent voice with a faraway look in his eyes. ‘They’re so sharp, not like normal teeth, they can cut your skin just by touching it.’

‘That sounds scary.’

‘And kind of hot as well.’

‘Jesus,’ Ty groaned.

‘It is! Why do you think vampires are always the sexy dudes in films? He can sense things too, he says he’s stronger if he drinks blood. Apparently the older a vampire is the stronger they are.’

‘Well he can’t be that old.’

‘He’s nearly one hundred and twenty. Vampires are immortal, they don’t age.’

Ty’s mouth hung open. ‘If you’re bullshitting me I’m going to kill you.’

‘I’m not! Also, you can’t see his reflection or take his photo, their image can’t be captured. I had to use my powers on Dawn to stop her trying to take pictures of him. She has a crush on him, I think she wanted a supply for her sexy lady time.’

Ty rolled his eyes. ‘Anders, can you just stop it, this is serious. You’re dating a vampire. I mean, this could complicate things.’

‘How so?’

‘Because things are always complicated by god crap. What if Axl finds Frigg and we get our full powers and it turns out vampires come under the dominion of Hel?’

‘You mean Eva could come back from the dead and steal him off me?’

‘I don’t know!’ Ty said, looking genuinely worried. ‘Aren’t they the undead? Don’t they belong in the underworld with me and, well, yes, Hel?’

‘Nah, I don’t think there are vampires in the Norse pantheon.’ Anders walked to the fridge to grab more beer, paused and pulled out a bottle of vodka instead, pouring himself and Ty a large measure each.

‘Have you checked?’

‘Not exactly, but Grandpa never mentioned them, nor has Ingrid.’

Ty rolled his eyes. ‘Grandpa and Ingrid are stoned hippies who never mention most quite important stuff!’

‘Chill out, Ty. Look, my main worry is that I’m going to go fucking crazy if he doesn’t stop stalking me. Hey, maybe you should date John, you’re god of cold and dark things, he’s undead, you’re both stalkers, perfect match!’ Anders sniggered.

‘Ha bloody ha. For what it’s worth there’s more to relationships than just constant hot sex if that’s what you’re worried about. There’s things like companionship and friendship and love, you don’t lose one because you have the other.’

‘I’m not worried about that! We have constant hot sex, and it’s only getting hotter. The only way it could get better is if he’d agree to a threesome with a hot chick. We need to meet some goddesses, they’re probably the only ones slutty enough to cope with our kinks.’

‘Enough!’ Ty said, covering his ears. ‘I don’t want to hear another word about sex, you’re fucking obsessed. And by the way, it would be a really bad idea to bring some poor girl into your weird, fucked up world.’

‘Well, we’re going out later so I’ll work on John over dinner and see if we can go one step further tonight.’ Anders laughed, but Ty looked livid. ‘What?’

‘I know you think it’s all a big game, but when I was with Eva we did some really fucked up shit, and people got hurt, we were lucky it wasn’t worse.’

‘Mitchell is nothing like Eva, look just because you had the misfortune to be married to the goddess of the fucking dead does not mean me dating the _undead_ is anything similar. Anyway, I’m not the god of the fucking undead, I’m god of fucking poetry, which is more the cheerful end of the pantheon.’

‘You swear a lot for some someone who’s meant to be poetic.’

‘Poetry comes in many forms, iceman.’

‘Look, what do you mean you’re going to go one step further later?’

‘Oh,’ Anders said evasively. ‘We just like to go and chat up girls sometimes. John swings both ways too.’

‘Just don’t… don’t Bragi some girl into bed when you share a bed with a vampire. What if he hurt them?’

‘Ah, I don’t use Bragi, that’s part of the challenge!’

‘I thought you said you were exclusive?’

‘We are, we don’t do anything, unfortunately, because John’s really possessive and all hetero shit about it, but we just see who can get the furthest with a girl, without using Bragi.’

Ty looked at Anders incredulously. ‘Get the furthest?’

Anders smiled to himself as he thought of Mitchell dragging him to bed after those nights. Mitchell had a domineering streak that Anders had grown to love, he hadn’t quite realised before how much he loved that sort of thing. But Mitchell reeling off his transgressions and meting out delicious punishment had fast become Anders’ real motivation for this little game, and Mitchell well knew it.

‘Anyway, we’re side-tracked. As a stalkerish kind of boyfriend, what would make you back off a bit without putting you off sex or doing the washing up and making me coffee?’

‘Oh fuck off, Anders. Just stop being such a dick, and stop treating everything like a big joke, all this vampire stuff.’

‘Trust me, I know it’s no joke.’ Anders was about to say more when they heard the door open and Mitchell walked in carrying a bag of shopping. ‘Don’t say anything about anything,’ Anders hissed at Ty.

‘Oh, hi, Ty,’ Mitchell said with a smile before kissing Anders on the lips and giving him a warm smile that was just for him. ‘Hello, my love,’ he said softly, wrapping his arms around Anders.

‘Your jacket’s cold,’ Anders complained as his face was pressed against the damp leather.

‘Sorry, baby,’ Mitchell took off his jacket and went to hang it up as Anders mouthed _see_ at Ty.

‘Be nice!’ Ty whispered giving Anders a hard look before Mitchell came back, wrapping his arms around Anders from behind and kissing his cheek.

‘How’s Dawn?’ Mitchell asked brightly, looking up at Ty as he rested his chin on Anders’ shoulder.

‘Overworked,’ Ty said, eyeing Anders with annoyance. Anders laughed, finding himself relaxing into the warmth of Mitchell’s arms despite his complaints to Ty.

‘She’s a top professional who’s just had a pay rise,’ Anders said, enjoying having Mitchell behind him, literally, against his brother’s complaints.

‘And you’re a slave driver. Anyway, are you well, Mitchell?’

‘I’m great, thanks. We’re off out later, after dinner, I’m cooking.’

‘That sounds nice.’

‘Hey, you and Dawn should come out with us,’ Mitchell smiled as he nuzzled into Anders’ hair. Anders gave him a kick on the shin.

‘I think Ty and Dawn would find it too gay where we’re going tonight,’ Anders said pointedly, not willing to give up his game with Mitchell. He ever so slightly ground his arse against Mitchell’s crotch to make his point. Mitchell’s expression changed to one of awkwardness.

‘Maybe not tonight,’ he said, looking for the right words. ‘Maybe Dawn would find the club we’re planning on going to a bit, umm, loud.’

‘Full of naked men writhing on podiums,’ Anders nodded. It was Mitchell’s turn to kick Anders.

‘Another time,’ Ty smiled awkwardly, staring at Mitchell. ‘Anyway, I will leave you love birds to it. Nice to see you, Mitchell.’

Anders lifted Mitchell’s arms off him and stepped out of his reach, alarmed by the way Ty was staring at Mitchell oddly. ‘John, I’m just seeing Ty out.’ He hustled Ty to the door. ‘Stop looking at him like that, like he’s a freak.’

‘I’m not!’ Ty protested.

‘You’re so obvious. And see what I mean about the koala thing?’

‘It’s perfectly normal in a happy, affectionate relationship. I cuddle Dawn like that! She likes it.’

Anders stroked his chin. ‘She does seem nauseatingly happy these days, I assumed that was because she’s thinking of Mitchell when she’s screwing you.’

‘I’m not even going to answer that. Just stop being such a dick and enjoy having a nice boyfriend.’

‘If the sex dries up I’m blaming you,’ Anders warned. ‘Now go away and don’t say anything.’

‘About what?’

‘Anything! To anyone.’

And with that Anders shut the door, and went back to Mitchell who was already starting on dinner, wishing he’d never said anything to Ty, especially when Mitchell produced a toy model of gothic castle for the fish tank, telling him ‘Dracula has to have his castle’. What was wrong with him, was he really that scared of Mitchell loving him? Or was he really afraid of how much he loved Mitchell?

~

The bar was dark with low lighting and dark velvet seating, which was divided into booths that ringed a dark wooden bar, there were a smattering of bar stools and it was at the bar that Mitchell and Anders were perched, bickering over their drinks order as they waited for the place to fill properly. Anders was bored as he hadn’t seen a single person he fancied, he didn’t need to fancy them of course but the game was more fun if he did.

‘See anyone you like?’ Anders asked, perusing the room and leaning back against the bar. Mitchell sat on a bar stool beside him and took a sip of his drink. ‘Christ, how can you drink that schnapps shite?’

‘I got a taste for it in Vienna.’ Mitchell smirked at Anders. ‘When I was old enough not to drink half the bottle in one go and give myself alcohol poisoning,’ he added, his look telling Anders he’d heard that little tale from Ty.

Anders shrugged. ‘Still shite. What about her?’ he said, nodding at a slim red headed girl in a blue dress.

‘Nice, go for it.’

‘No, for you.’

Mitchell smiled and leaned into Anders. ‘I prefer to just sit here and let them come to me.’

‘You’re just lazy.’

‘You’re desperate. Look at you, bouncing around, no patience.’

‘You realise you’re just cheating,’ Anders moaned, spinning around to face Mitchell.

‘How so?’ Mitchell asked, his face breaking out into a broad grin at the glint in Anders’ eye.

‘You are dressed like a person dressing up as a student, you don’t so much have a haircut as don’t cut it and you wear those bloody gloves all the time, but you’re so fucking beautiful you’re still the hottest person in here.’ He dropped his hand to rest on Mitchell’s thigh. ‘Tramp.’

‘I pulled you in trackies,’ Mitchell shrugged, smirking as well as glowing inside at the veiled compliment from Anders.

‘I’m an easy lay,’ Andes said nonchalantly. ‘So, my sweet creature of the night, care to place any bets?’

‘On what?’

‘First phone number by midnight.’

‘You know I always win,’ Mitchell said casually.

‘You do not.’

‘Oh I do in the end,’ he growled in Anders’ ear, making his boyfriend shiver slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed. Anders pressed into Mitchell and kissed him, short but hard, a promise.

‘You better keep your promises, big boy.’ Anders let his hand wander further up Mitchell’s thigh. ‘I always did like a bad boy.’

‘Oh, I can be very, very bad, they don’t call me Big Bad John for nothing.’

Anders laughed and nosed closer to Mitchell. ‘Are all vampires as ridiculous as you?’ He squeezed Mitchell’s thigh as he spoke letting his fingers trace the seam of the inside leg.

Mitchell slipped an arm around him. ‘I don’t think I feel like letting you go tonight,’ he murmured in Anders’ ear.

‘Play nicely, John,’ Anders said, extracting himself from Mitchell’s arms and turning to look around the room again. ‘Ah, fuck, there’s nobody here as hot as you. Or even hot. This bar sucks, let’s go somewhere else.’

‘Patience, it’s still early.’

‘Oh it’s a fucking pit.’ He looked around the room again, inwardly cursing that everyone seemed so bland next to Mitchell. He was draining his bottle of beer when he caught her eye, she was half hidden in a booth at the far end of the room, but she definitely winked at him. He grinned to himself. ‘On the other hand, maybe one more won’t hurt.’ He turned to the barman. ‘Two glasses of red wine please.’

‘I’m drinking schnapps,’ Mitchell said, his face falling.

‘Then find some other sucker to buy it for you, you’ll owe me, as I think I’ve just won our bet. Found my pretty thing from the other night.’

‘Where?’

‘Over there, so fuck off for a bit and let me get in without looking too gay.’

Anders paid for his drinks and gave Mitchell a peck on the cheek. ‘See you later,’ he said with a wink and wandered off leaving Mitchell a little open mouthed.

~

Luckily for Anders, Mitchell had decided to play fair and give him some space. He had last seen Mitchell in deep conversation with a gothy looking girl who was regaling him with a long and boring story, his eyebrows were knitted together in concentration which had the effect of making him look rather angry, especially when he surreptitiously gave Anders the middle finger on one of his trips to the bar. Anders laughed, he was in much better luck.

The girl Anders was pursuing was wearing a sleek black dress this time, it probably would have been mid-thigh on most people but on her it came down to her knees. She was a small creature, but much more sexy than he normally found skinny girls. She had almost black hair that fell in looping curls down her back and around her face. She had a pretty, heart shaped face, round enough to stop her features looking sharp and dark, knowing eyes. Her skin was very pale, especially against her black dress and hair and her delicate lips were flushed red, as Anders watched her speak he realised he was getting properly turned on by a woman for the first time in ages.

‘So, let me get this straight, you ‘ave three brothers?’ she asked, her accent was pure London, strangely, despite living in London, Anders didn’t hear it that often. She ran her finger up the stem of her wine glass. ‘Are they all as ‘andsome as you?’

‘Fuck no, I’m definitely the best,’ Anders snorted. ‘And you? Have any equally hot sisters?’

‘I don’t ‘ave any family,’ she said. ‘I don’t need none. Mine were useless anyway.’

‘They’re not all they’re cracked up to be.’ He smiled and took a drink, not wanting to hear about her dysfunctional background.

‘So,’ she said, eyes twinkling mischievously as she leaned into him. ‘Are you going to tell me about your boyfriend?’

‘What? No, you’ve got me all wrong.’ Anders laughed, hoping he could brush this one off. He wondered if using Bragi to say he wasn’t gay counted as cheating?

‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ she said, still holding his gaze as she sipped her drink. ‘I thought that ‘andsome one at the bar was your boyfriend. The dark one.’ She sighed dramatically and let her arms fall to her side, a gold pendant in the shape of a heart caught the light as her pale throat was exposed when she moved. ‘That’s a real shame.’

‘It is?’ Anders said, unsure what to make of it.

‘Yeah, I was ‘oping to ‘ave some fun, with the both of you.’

‘You were?’ Anders was definitely getting hard now. This little creature between him and Mitchell would be heaven. Her movements were so fluid, she had a quickness about her, plus her dress clung to her body in a way that made his cock ache, he wondered if she was aware he could see the hard outline of her nipples through the clinging fabric.

‘I ‘ave to admit, I’ve always ‘ad a thing for two men together. Two ‘ot, masculine bodies, all that muscle and ‘air an’ ‘ardness.’ She sighed again and moved closer, if she got any closer now she’d be in his lap. ‘I was ‘oping you’d come over ‘ere to chat me up so we could go ‘ome, all three of us.’

‘Well, now you come to mention it,’ Anders stammered, never having actually heard this said out loud by a real live woman before, and still wondering if this was some kind of day dream.

‘It’s not the dark one is it?’ she asked, looked disappointed.

‘No, no, he’s mine,’ Anders said quickly.

‘Oh good, what’s ‘is name?’

‘John, but, erm other people call him Mitchell.’

‘John. Big Bad John is he?’

‘He can be.’

She sat up straighter and so she was higher in the seat and looked at Mitchell over the tops of other people’s heads. She smiled and took Anders’ hand and put it on her thigh, parting her legs a little under the table. Anders grinned to himself and let his hand inch higher at her invitation, her eyes bored into him, daring him, inviting him in.

‘Do yer think ‘e’ll fancy me?’ she asked, giving a little moan to encourage him. ‘What did ‘e say?’

‘He hasn’t seen you yet,’ Anders said, smiling and slipping his hand under her dress, running it higher up her leg still. ‘These booths hide us and he’s been pinned down by a right troll.’ She laughed at that.

‘I ‘ope he don’t think I’m a troll. Not when I’m so wet for you.’

Anders grinned. ‘Nobody could think that about you, you’re beautiful. You and John are both beautiful and you have no fucking idea how hard that makes me.’

She smiled coyly, then took his wrist and guided his hand between her legs. ‘Feel,’ she told him. Anders gasped a little as his fingers found wiry hair and warm wet flesh. She wore no underwear and was indeed very turned on. After a few moments of her increasingly vocal gasps Anders withdrew his hand. She leaned forward and licked his first finger, her tongue flicking out delicately as his cock seemed to swell even more. He put his middle finger in his own mouth tasting her.

‘Next time get your man to lick it,’ she whispered.

‘You’re serious?’ he asked, taken back at her boldness. ‘You’re really up for this?’

‘Listen, I ain’t like all these little prick teases, when I see somethin’ I want I get it. And I want you and your boy. ‘Ere, when you’ve fucked me, will you put on a little show?’ she asked, smiling brilliantly. She actually looked innocent when she smiled, her face was happy and open. Anders was fast learning she was anything but.

‘I think we could manage,’ Anders grinned, sitting back in his seat as she palmed his cock, giggling. ‘I should go tell Mitchell to come over so you two can get to know each other.’

‘Can I ‘ave a kiss first?’

Anders smiled again as she leaned into him and kissed him, she was a good kisser, he was on the verge of pulling her into his lap when he thought of Mitchell at the bar and gently pushed her back instead. ‘Let me go and see him, I’ll be back in a minute,’ Anders said gently, starting to worry Mitchell was going to take all this the wrong way. The girl slid away from him and smiled again, her eyes dancing with merriment and she watched him walk towards his lover who was now alone and looking around the bar which by now was packed.

‘There you are, ready to go?’ Mitchell said irritably as Anders approached.

‘Well, you could congratulate me, I’ve not only won, I’ve scored us an offer.’

‘What?’ Mitchell asked, getting up.

‘Threesome.’

‘Are you drunk?’

‘No. well, ok, slightly, but that’s not the reason. We have the offer of a threesome. She literally put my hand up her pussy, John, then said she wants to fuck two guys.’

‘You are drunk.’

‘I swear it’s true, and she’s fit. Really beautiful girl, small and pert, just how you like them.’

‘We’re not having a threesome,’ Mitchell said firmly. ‘Especially if you’ve used Bragi. I’ve not even seen this girl properly, you’ve tucked her away so I can’t see.’

‘Come and see now then, and I swear you will be so hard for her.’ He wiggled the first two fingers of his right hand in a thrusting motion.

Mitchell looked at Anders and the still visible bulge in his trousers, he rolled his eyes. ‘Please don’t tell me you actually fingered her in a fucking club.’ Anders shifted and scratched his head. ‘‘You are going to pay for this big time,’ he warned, his face wolfish. Anders held his gaze and smiled wickedly. ‘Oh, you better be good at begging for mercy, Anders Johnson,’ Mitchell growled, cupping Anders’ cheek and letting his eyes flash to black for the briefest moment. Anders swallowed. He was pushing their game to the absolute limit, but the pay-off was worth it.

‘Come and meet her,’ he said, stepping back from Mitchell.

‘I suppose I better see this woman. I bet she’s rough, I mean it’s not ladylike, is it?’ Mitchell said, screwing his face up in part amusement, part distaste at what Anders had told him.

‘She’s hot, trust me.’

Anders led Mitchell to the far side of the room, he was pleased to see her sitting elegantly, toying with her wine glass as she watched them approach with a broad smile.

 ‘So,’ she said, eyeing Mitchell, who for once looked relatively smart in his tight black jeans, black short sleeved shirt and leather jacket. ‘This is Big Bad John.’ She laughed as she met Mitchell’s eye and blew him a kiss.

‘Mitchell, this is Jane. Jane, John Mitchell,’ Anders said by way of introduction.

Anders wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but whatever he had expected certainly wasn’t what happened next. It was so quick. Faster than he should have been able to move, Mitchell was in front of Jane and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her out her seat. She squealed and dropped her drink, which sent red wine and broken glass shattering across the floor. Heedless, Mitchell dragged her by the arm and hair towards the fire exit just behind them.

‘What the fuck, John! Stop it!’ Anders shouted, alarmed by the violence of his reaction. If he’d thought for a second Mitchell would be that jealous he wouldn’t have done it. ‘Fuck! Mitchell! Let go!’ she shouted, ignoring the horrified onlookers and tearing after them.

He caught up with them in the backstreet the fire exit led out to. It was almost entirely dark but for the orange glow of an anaemic street lamp above them. There was the wall of the club on one side and iron railings on the other, he couldn’t see in the darkness what was behind them, probably some kind of yard, but they were well off the street and the gaze of traffic and pedestrians. Jane was slumped against the brick wall, her hair wild, obscuring her face. And Mitchell loomed over her, furious, eyes as black as night and fangs bared.

‘No!’ Anders screamed. ‘No, John, no!’ He was panicking too much to summon Bragi, he grabbed Mitchell’s arm instead, but was shrugged off with a strength that didn’t feel earthly.

‘You little bitch,’ Mitchell spat at her. ‘You’ve been watching us.’

Jane laughed at him. ‘You’ve got a very pretty boyfriend, it was fun. Oh, lighten up, Mitchell, you always did like a game. This is all a game and Bragi plays so well.’

‘I’m not playing any more of your games,’ Mitchell hissed stepping towards her.

Anders was puzzled now, his alcohol-fuddled mind was slow in making the connection, but it appeared Mitchell knew Jane already.

‘Such a shame, you could be such fun. ‘Ere, Anders, I don’t think ‘e wants a threesome anymore. Which is a damn shame as Mitchell always loves to play and there’s nothin’ like comin’ with ‘is pretty ‘ead between your legs.’ She laughed again and Anders finally understood just before her eyes went black, she bared her fangs and lunged at Mitchell.

It was so fast, he realised they must be able to move more quickly than normal people, she had Mitchell by the throat and pinned to the wall, her arm outstretched as he towered over her tiny frame. ‘You listen to me, John Mitchell,’ she said, her voice now hard, all playfulness gone. ‘You fucking owe us, you remember what you are and ‘oo you are.’

‘Tell Charlotte I’m not interested, I just want to be left alone. I won’t interfere, I just…’

‘Tell ‘er yourself, this ain’t about ‘er, this is about me. I ain’t letting you go again. Look at yer,’ she sniffed. ‘Not a drop in weeks, what you fuckin’ doing? You’re weak, Mitchell!’ To make her point to lifted him higher and then drew him towards her, hand still around his neck, until she lunged at him, biting him right in on the neck. Anders screamed, not just a squeal but screams of real terror. This was the first time he’d seen a vampire attack and he could only watch as Mitchell fell to his knees, crying out in pain and the woman who only minutes ago had had him hard and wanting was now sucking violently at his lover’s blood.

Anders heard himself shouting for them to stop, grabbed her arm, which gave Mitchell the opening he needed. He prized her off his neck, still crying out in pain as blood flowed steadily from the wound. Anders expected him to stand, but instead he brought his arm back and hit Jane hard around the face, just the one strike sent her little body to the ground like a fallen poppy, and Mitchell leaned over her, eyes black, his face twisted in an inhuman snarl and bit into her this time, not to drink, but to wound.

Anders felt sick, he really thought he was going to throw up. He was watching his lover attack a woman who was lying prostrate in the ground and he was biting into her viciously. He found himself pulling at Mitchell, trying to wrestle with the supernatural strength beneath him, begging him to stop.

Then he heard Jane laugh again. ‘This is nuffin’, he ain’t got the strength to ‘urt me.’ And with that they were both thrown back and too fast for Anders’ drunken brain to keep up Mitchell became the one pinned to the ground, as Jane viciously ripped a gash in his throat. Anders felt dizzy, he was kneeling on the ground and could feel the bile rising in his throat as Jane lifted her head, covered in blood, fangs bared. She looked ready to kill Mitchell, whatever kind of vampire she was she was evidently much stronger than Mitchell, who was gasping beneath her.

‘E’s weak, not fed,’ she told Anders as her fingers wrapped tightly around Mitchell’s throat. ‘Aww, you want me to stop, pretty boy?’

‘Yes,’ Anders panted, trying not to throw up. ‘Leave him alone.’

‘I’ll never leave ‘im alone. Oh you two, you have no idea how powerful you are.’

‘You know I’m a god?’

‘Yes, Bragi.’ She grinned and lowered her head. Anders could hear Mitchell pleading with her to stop, swearing and trying to throw her off as she sucked at the wound in his neck again. It came to him slowly, but then he realised what he needed to do.

‘ _Leave him_ ,’ Bragi ordered. ‘ _Yes, you, the slutty vampire bitch, get off him_.’ Jane was looking up at Anders now with a twisted and pained expression, she moved back from Mitchell a little. ‘ _You get your hands off him, put your fangs away._ _Jeg er Bragi , vil du bøye meg Draugr._ ’ Anders felt as if he was looking down on the scene from above as the words left his mouth. He knew he was saying things he had no understanding of as he got up and stood over the two vampires. Jane was now writhing on the ground her hands over her face trying to shield herself from Anders, her legs kicked at him hopelessly, she was trying to scramble to her feet, but couldn’t come closer to him. ‘ _Get away from John Mitchell, you will not hurt him. Forsvinn djevelen!’_  

 

Pain now contorted Jane’s features, her eyes were screwed shut as if from bright light and she began to wail and scream. ‘ _Go_!’ Anders screamed Bragi’s voice still on his lips. ‘ _Go from here_.’ But Jane was now curled up on the ground screaming. Mitchell was scrambling to his feet, grabbing Anders. 

 

‘Enough!’ Mitchell shouted. ‘Anders, stop, enough! She’s had enough.’ Anders nodded, not really understanding what was happening, only that Mitchell was ok and he was going to be sick at any moment. He turned and leaned against the wall before finally throwing up. 

He’d been retching for a few minutes before he finally looked up, wiped his mouth and leaned against the cold brick wall, looking for Mitchell. To his surprise he saw Mitchell carrying Jane who seemed to be semi-conscious in his arms. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Anders asked. 

‘I can’t just leave her here,’ Mitchell said. ‘You really hurt her.’ He looked at Anders almost accusingly. 

‘You were the one hitting her and trying to tear her head off. And she was going to kill you!’ he protested angrily. 

‘That’ll heal, like this,’ he pointed to the gash on his neck which was already rapidly disappearing. ‘She’s stronger than she looks.’ 

‘Yeah, I kinda gathered that.’ 

‘But you really hurt her.’ 

‘How? And stop fucking looking at me like that, I just used my powers to get her off you, she was going to fucking kill you.’ 

‘She wanted to make me weak, lose enough blood so I’d have to feed. She wouldn’t kill me.’ 

‘Right, that’s o-fucking-kay then!’ 

‘Anders! You used your god power on her, you’re a fucking god! We’re vampires, it’s like hosing her down with holy water, or saying fucking mass over her.’ 

‘It doesn’t affect you like that,’ Anders said, puzzled. ‘Your affection for me… it stops it working like that on me. I had a friend once, a werewolf.’ Anders thought he heard Jane mutter the words ‘fucking dogs’ at that. ‘He wore a star of David, never hurt me, not even a bit. Other vampires couldn’t go near it.’ 

‘So powerful,’ Jane rasped, coming round a bit and lifting her head. Her dress was in tatters, her hair had become a wild mass of curls and her face was covered in blood, there was a gash on her neck and a livid bruise on her cheek where Mitchell had struck her. But the twinkle was back in her eye as she looked at Mitchell. ‘So fucking powerful, John Mitchell. You ‘ave no idea what you two are. Fuck me, you’ve tamed a fuckin’ god.’ She laughed to herself and slipped out of Mitchell’s arms, standing unsteadily and letting Mitchell take her arm. ‘Urg, was that you throwing up?’ She asked Anders eying the pool of vomit with distaste. 

‘Not keen on blood.’ 

‘And you’re going out with Big Bad John,’ she burst out laughing. ‘Couldn’t make it up.’ Her laughter was cut short as she bent over, clutching her side. ‘Fuck, fuck,’ she gasped. ‘You little bastard.’ 

As Mitchell picked Jane up again a car’s headlights flooded the ally with bright light. Anders blinked as his eyes adjusted. His mouth still tasted of sour bile and he felt sick again as he saw a dark figure approach. It was a man, taller than Mitchell, heavily built, wearing a long black coat with an upturned collar. Mitchell was tense watching him until he saw the man’s face.

‘Sweeney,’ Mitchell called. 

‘Mitchell?’ the man replied, Anders noticed he was also Irish. ‘What you doing here?’ 

‘Do you mean what am I doing here alive?’ Jane let out a bark of laughter at that.

‘Shut up,’ Mitchell snapped at Jane. 

‘Mitchell,’ Sweeney hissed in a warning tone, the way a child might to warn of an angry teacher. 

‘She’s hurt,’ Mitchell said bluntly. ‘She needs to feed and rest.’ He set Jane on her feet next to Sweeney. ‘Just get her out of here.’ 

‘’Ere, Mitchell, don’t I get a goodbye?’ Jane asked, grabbing his arm. She pulled him forward and kissed him on the mouth, Anders watched as Mitchell momentarily relaxed into it, before pulling away. Jane licked at the wound on his neck. ‘Next time,’ she muttered in his ear. ‘Next time.’ 

With that Jane stumbled into Sweeney, who lifted her into his arms so she looked more doll-like than ever and carried her towards the waiting car. Anders watched until the car headlights went and they heard the car accelerate away, he then shuffled next to Mitchell and, frightened and shaken, picked up Mitchell’s hand, squeezing it, grateful when Mitchell wrapped his arms around him, holding him close.

 

**  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Norse dialect is from google translate as sadly I don't speak Norwegian, sorry to any Norwegians if it therefore sounds weird!


	9. Bring out your bodies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is Jane to Mitchell? And what do the Johnsons have to say about one of their own dating a vampire?

**Bristol 1953**

Jane stretched out on the freshly made bed, letting the cool clean sheets press against her naked body before swinging her legs over the side and picking up her soft pink silk wrap from the floor and slipping it on. Mitchell watched her with affectionate eyes. ‘Why are you getting dressed?’ he asked, his arms stretching towards her. He was also naked but for his briefs and was enjoying admiring his companion.

‘Gonna bring the next one up,’ she replied, smoothing her hair which was styled in large curls around her face. Mitchell grinned, hunger already coursing through him at the thought. Jane picked up the pile of bloodied sheets on the floor to put in the laundry basket on the landing.

‘Where are the others?’ he asked, reaching for his cigarettes and lighting up.

‘Out the back, I got some ‘elp picking ‘em. Sweeney and Pat are swinging by to ‘elp themselves to the leftovers.’

‘Your new heavies?’

‘A gel’s gotta look after ‘erself.’

‘Did I give you a taste for Irishmen?’ he laughed.

‘You’re the only Irishman I’m tasting, darlin’.’ She winked at him and slipped on her pink slippers before going downstairs and returning a few minutes later with a terrified looking young man, bound and gagged, led by a lead around his neck. He wore a brown suit and cream shirt. His tie had been removed and his neat blond hair messed up, but Mitchell noticed at once he was handsome and sat up with interest.

‘This one got picked up cruisin’ for men.’

‘Ungag him,’ Mitchell ordered, standing up and pulling on his own dressing gown, a maroon checked affair that came down to his knees but didn’t really cover his chest. Jane rolled her eyes and untied the material that bound his mouth.

‘Always gotta do it the ‘ard way, ‘aven’t yer?’ she said with a mischievous smile.

The man spluttered and coughed, Mitchell brought a glass of water from his bedside table to his lips. ‘There, don’t worry, we’re not going to hurt you, we have nothing against homosexuals here.’

‘Please,’ the man said shakily. ‘Please let me go. I swear I was in the wrong place, I like girls, I promise.’

‘That’s a shame,’ Jane said smiling and stretching out on the bed, looking elegant and serene, letting her wrap slipping open to reveal her body, naked underneath. The man flushed red at the sight. ‘Awww, I don’t think e’s seen one of these before,’ she giggled at Mitchell, and pointed to the dark hair between her legs. Mitchell slapped her bottom.

‘Behave,’ he said, stern and frowning, pulling the wrap over her front to cover her up again.

‘Mitchell likes you,’ Jane said, examining her nails. ‘That’s why e’s on ‘is best behaviour. ‘E likes men too, yer know. Men like you, ‘e’s even been known to cruise the same spots. Pretty boy like ‘im always popular.’ She looked up. ‘I just like to watch,’ she whispered. ‘Especially when someone fucks him for a change.’

Mitchell slapped her buttocks again, enough to make her squeal this time. ‘I’m sorry about her, she’s very vulgar, probably why I never married her.’ He smiled knowingly at the man.

‘And I don’t ‘ave a cock,’ Jane snorted as Mitchell untied the young man gently.

‘Shut up now, Jane,’ he said as the young man shook his stiff arms out. ‘Sorry about her, do you have a name?’

‘Alan,’ the young man stammered.

‘Alan. And you went out tonight, looking for a little fun, and a little bit of this,’ he stroked Alan’s cheek gently and felt the young man relax slightly. ‘But a pair of Irish thugs picked you up, and you thought they were going to kill you?’ Alan nodded silently. Mitchell tutted. ‘Such a bad image for our nation. But luckily for you, my lady friend is as powerful as she is vulgar, she has very particular tastes and so do I. We take care of people like you. We’re very discreet and lots of fun.’ Mitchell smiled, predatory, a dark curl has fallen over his forehead and his eyes were dark in the low lights of the bedroom even in their normal state. He looked alluring and knew it, with his curls cut short and almost tamed by brylcreem, his handsome face clean shaven and fresh, and his chest hair visible as the dressing gown he wore slowly slipped apart. He watched the younger man’s blue eyes scan him, his face, his chest.

‘You’re one of us?’ the man asked. Mitchell nodded and leaned in, kissing him softly on the lips.

‘Forget those thugs, they’re gone.’ Alan nodded, his fear seeming to evaporate as Mitchell put a hand on his shoulder. Mitchell almost laughed at his naivety. ‘Jane, go and get us a drink,’ Mitchell ordered. Jane pouted and then obeyed, leaving the room again. ‘She likes to watch, but it will just be you and me,’ Mitchell said, motioning that they should sit on the bed. ‘Just ignore her, she won’t talk when we’re in bed.’

Alan nodded, finding the situation bizarre, but the rare treat in front of him too alluring to pass up. Mitchell leaned forward and kissed him again, Alan kissed back this time, responding to Mitchell’s hand on his thigh by slipping a hand inside Mitchell’s dressing gown to touch his chest. By the time Jane came back ten minutes later practiced charm with a soft Irish lilt and a smile seemed to have erased the man’s memory of how he’d arrived here, or all this blood had deserted his brain for his prick, Mitchell thought. Jane smirked at Mitchell, who’d got had Alan’s shirt undone and had the pinkish glow of stubble rash starting around his mouth.

Mitchell looked at Jane with a wolfish grin. This was the bit that got him excited, got him hard and sent a thrill through him. Brute force was easy, but charm was so much sweeter. He took the drink off Jane and downed it in one, before passing Alan his drink.

‘Sit there, love,’ he told Jane, smirking at Alan. She caught his eye and smiled sweetly, settling herself in a pink velvet chair by the dressing table. She crossed her legs and sipped her wine as she watched Mitchell slowly undress the young man in front of him, her breathing getting faster as she anticipated what was to come.

‘How do you want to…’ Alan stammered after they’d kissed on the bed for a few minutes, Mitchell rubbing their cocks together. Mitchell looked to Jane, who pointed one red nailed finger at him with a grin.

‘On yer back,’ she said, trying to suppress her excitement. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked fuller figured, rosier than usual after their earlier feeds, he looked at her admiringly for a few moments, wishing to god she could join them now, but knowing it would frighten off their guest.

Mitchell tore his gaze away from Jane and looked at the man beside him, nodded and whispered. ‘Fuck me.’

Alan had been easy to talk around and as Mitchell lay on his back, legs raised and parted, being penetrated by the handsome blond, he realised Alan probably hadn’t much experience and wasn’t going to last long, probably no bad thing as he wasn’t prepared enough and it burned, even as it felt good to be filled up again. Mitchell could see Jane out the corner of his eye, touching herself and wriggling in her seat impatiently, eyes black already, he wanted her mouth on him, her small pert breasts in his face as he was fucked. Mitchell wrapped his arms around the man inside him and grinned.

‘So fucking good,’ Mitchell moaned, waiting until the young man cried out in excitement as he came before he biting down, the cries of pleasure turning to pain before they were silenced.

As soon as the body went limp in Mitchell’s arms Jane leapt on his back, her fangs sinking into the other side of the neck, and she and Mitchell drank greedily and deep.

Mitchell lifted his head first, eyes still black. ‘You enjoyed that one, you little slut,’ he gasped, kissing her shoulders and breast, making them red with blood before grabbing Jane from behind and sinking his cock into her in one smooth movement. ‘Fuck, that’s good.’

‘I prefer the ones who know what they’re doin’ with you, darlin’,’ she said, groaning as he filled her. ‘He was cute, but too easy.’ Her mouth was covered in blood as she grinned at Mitchell who was similarly blood soaked and covered Jane’s porcelain back with smears of red as he kissed and licked her skin. Jane arched into his touch before biting into their victim again and gorging more then leaning round to Mitchell with a mouthful of blood, kissing him and letting it trickle into his mouth.

‘In all these years,’ Jane said, mouth dripping with blood and shuddering as his hands reached around to play between her legs. ‘I’ve never met anyone like you, we’re fuckin’ made for each other, darlin’. God, you’re good at fucking too,’ she moaned.

Mitchell grinned. He’d never met anyone like Jane either.

~

‘Knock, knock, anyone home? Or should I say, bring out your bodies?’

A familiar voice woke Mitchell from his sleep. He stretched and his arm found Jane’s small waist, her body pressed against his as she slept.

‘Wait a minute,’ Mitchell called, covering Jane with the bedspread, smiling at her sleeping face, he stroked some of her hair which was fanned out on the pillow. The body was on the floor beside the bed, he and Jane in the bloodstained sheets.

‘Oh, Mitchell, really, another one,’ Herrick said, seeing the body on the floor. ‘Three bodies in one day, you’ve been busy, my friend. Ah, not just you? Or is this one a corpse too?’ he indicated the dark hair next to Mitchell in the bed, which was all he could see of Jane’s sleeping form.

‘Shushhhh! It’s Jane,’ Mitchell mouthed, getting out of bed carefully. Herrick’s face changed instantly as he backed out the room, waiting for Mitchell who ambled out after him, pulling on his dressing gown.

‘Why didn’t you say?’ Herrick hissed. Mitchell shrugged. ‘You can’t just… she’s an Old One, you don’t just let me walk in, even in my own house… You should know by now.’

‘It’s Jane, she’s not like the others.’

‘Maybe for you,’ Herrick said, voice full of resentment. ‘But those of us who aren’t her favourite fuck toy need to show a bit more respect. Do you know what she’s capable of?’

‘She’s fine,’ Mitchell protested, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

‘Says the boyfriend.’

‘I’m not her boyfriend.’

‘You are whatever she says you are. Now, get yourself washed and dressed and I’ll send the clean-up squad round. Make sure she knows it was _my_ favour.’ Mitchell nodded. ‘And as a thank you, _you_ can get her to put a word in for me with Charlotte Campbell one of these days.’

With that Herrick strode down the landing of the old house they shared and waited for Mitchell follow.

 

**Edinburgh 1985**

Mitchell sighed as he waited outside the changing rooms of the shop, he had no fucking idea which one. He was hungry and tired and so fed up he could happily rip the throat out of the shop assistant who was encouraging Jane to try on more and more. He dug his hands deeper into the pockets of his denim jacket and scowled.

‘What about this?’ Jane called, stepping out from behind the heavy velvet curtain drowned in a huge red satin dress with enormous shoulders.

‘Lovely,’ the shop assistant cooed. ‘Now, I know you explained about the mirror thing,’ she indicated the large mirror which had a cloth draped over it at Jane’s request, pleading a phobia of her reflection. ‘But what about a tiny little look at the back, that bow detail is marvellous.’ She fingered a huge bow at the back of the dress.

‘Nah, I freak out if I see my reflection, I’m seeing someone in ‘Arley Street when we get back,’ Jane lied. ‘Nervous thing, innit, Mitchell?’ He nodded absently, now fingering his hair, wondering if it had held its volume, Jane had insisted on styling it for him, he now had short sides, with some length left on the back and she’d put loads of some vile white stuff called mousse in it to make his hair look like it had several thousand volts through it like hers did. She insisted it suited him.

‘What d’yer think, darlin’?’ Jane asked Mitchell spinning round. Mitchell took in Jane’s dress, the enormous shoulders, the enormous bow, topped off with enormous hair.

‘You look like a bleeding Christmas present,’ Mitchell snapped. ‘Now can we go? You have enough.’

‘A Christmas present? This is fucking Christian Dior!’

‘It’s too big, you look like you’ve been at your mother’s dressing up clothes, you’re drowning in it.’

Jane and the shop assistant both shot him furious looks, he ignored them both and examined the rings on his fingers.

Jane snorted and turned on her heel, emerging a few minutes later in her normal clothes, stone washed jeans, a cropped t-shirt and denim jacket, her long curls pushed back from her face with a large red hairband. ‘I’ll ‘ave all the ones in the pile on the left,’ she told the assistant, heading for the tills, reaching for her cheque book.

Ten minutes later they emerged into the bright sunshine of Princes Street, Mitchell carrying a ridiculous number of Jenners’ shopping bags, both wincing at the bright light. They pulled their sunglasses on and moved to the shadows under the building.

‘You’d think you’d get away from the sun in fucking Scotland, even in August,’ Jane complained. Mitchell nodded in agreement. ‘So where next?’

‘Somewhere with lots of alcohol and no clothes.’

‘You’re no fun anymore,’ Jane moaned, walking slightly ahead of him.

‘What, because I don’t like shopping with you? You said you wanted to go to the Edinburgh Festival, not drag me round clothes shopping. We haven’t even been to a show yet, last night was shite too,’ he added, referring to their failed attempt to seduce a young woman into bed, which had gone wrong when she drank too much and threw up on Jane’s shoes. Jane then declared she wasn’t hungry anymore, which was both a shock and relief to Mitchell who had never heard those words leave her mouth before.

‘And that was your fault too, giving her too many drinks.’ Jane sighed dramatically. ‘You don’t like anything anymore. Since you met that fucking woman and got these ridiculous ideas in your ‘ead you’re a right bore. I blame ‘Errick. Boring old cunt would drive anyone to madness.’

‘I’m not mad,’ Mitchell said, gritting his teeth. ‘And she wasn’t a _fucking_ woman.’

‘She’d be a fucking corpse if I ‘ad my way.’

Mitchell moved quickly, grabbing her arm and pulling her against the wall. ‘You lay a finger on Josie ever and I swear I will put a stake through your heart so fast.’ He didn’t care that people were staring, only that Jane knew he was serious.

‘Okay, okay, like I could even be arsed to find ‘er.’

‘Good. We finished years ago so she’s no concern of yours. Got it?’ He twisted her arm painfully, making her wince before she nodded and pushed him off. He shoved the shopping bags at her. ‘Here, take these.’

‘I still blame ‘Errick,’ she muttered. ‘Oi, where you goin’?’ she called after him as he strode off.

‘Pub, see you later,’ Mitchell called over his shoulder, not bothering to look at her.

~

They next saw each other in the hotel room they were staying in later that evening. Mitchell found her lying on the bed asleep, all dressed up to go out in one of her new dresses. He sat on the bed and watched her face, peaceful and still in sleep as it never was awake. She was so pretty, even now she sometimes took his breath away. He remembered first seeing her in a club, being transfixed and being told by Herrick she was out of bounds, a special vampire, about to become an Old One, to be revered and respected, not chatted up by a newbie. She’d needed no chatting up, and to Herrick’s dismay had taken Mitchell to her bed that very night.

Now all these years later she was still one of his constants, along with Herrick, the one who always came back. They’d been the best of friends and lovers until Mitchell had found his conscience and met Josie. She hadn’t taken that well and in letting Josie go Mitchell knew he was not only freeing her to have children and live a normal life, he was protecting her from dangerous people like Jane and Herrick. It was hard to believe looking at her face, made cherubic by slumber, she could be so dangerous. But she killed without mercy, her appetites had always been impressive and grew with her great age. Herrick hated her of course, though he pretended otherwise, but Mitchell knew he was impressed with her too.

She stirred as he stroked her cheek. ‘Mitchell?’ she said groggily.

‘Hi.’

‘I didn’t think you’d be back,’ she stretched as she sat up.

‘Sorry, I’m sorry about earlier too.’

She shrugged. ‘I’m so ‘ungry,’ she moaned.

‘Can’t you wait ‘til tomorrow?’

‘No I fuckin’ can’t wait,’ she snapped, groaning. ‘I’m so, so ‘ungry.’

He sighed. ‘Ok, get changed, we’ll go down to the docks, there’s loads of junkies hanging about we can pick up easily, nobody will notice.’

She looked at him in disgust. ‘Pick up junkies? Is this ‘Errick’s latest fad? I do not pick up junkies! Go downstairs and get me someone.’

‘I can’t just get someone,’ he protested. ‘Someone is someone’s sister, daughter, mother…do you even think of that. The whole world isn’t a fucking larder, Jane.’

‘You what? Get a girl, pick ‘er up, bring ‘er back ‘ere, fuck ‘er, kill ‘er, or kill ‘er then fuck ‘er, I don’t care, just get me someone! Pick up a bloody guy if you ‘ave to. I’m starvin’.’

‘There you go, it’s like a menu, ohhh, what will I have tonight? Boy? Girl? You’re killing people, real people with feelings and families who’ll miss them.’

‘Are you on fuckin’ drugs? I’m ‘ungry! People are all cunts, Mitchell, don’t yer know that by now? Best thing I ever did was kill every fucker in that fuckin’ ‘ouse I lived in.’ Mitchell was momentarily taken aback, he’d heard rumours of course of how Jane was recruited, a servant in a great house, dying of tuberculosis, a moment of pity (or perhaps she saw a glimmer of something, Mitchell thought more likely) from Charlotte Campbell, who was a guest for the night. It was said Charlotte woke the next day to a house full of bodies and Jane asleep in the mistress’s bed. He looked at Jane, curiously. ‘We are special,’ she continued. ‘Chosen, the blood of the ancestors is in us. They’re fucking vermin. They do worse to each other than we ever do to them. Look around, Mitchell. Just fuckin’ look.’

Mitchell sighed. ‘I’m not hungry, I’m not in the mood for sex either.’

Jane laughed hollowly. ‘Liar,’ she hissed, baring her fangs. ‘You’re always ‘ungry.’ She brought her wrist to her mouth and ran her fangs along the veins, blood spilling. She then put her other hand in Mitchell’s hair, pulling his head towards her. ‘Drink, taste it, tell me you’re not ‘ungry.’

Mitchell tried momentarily to resist, but was then lapping at her blood like a dying man, panting and growing hard. She let go of his hair to palm his cock through his jeans, laughing when he ground into her.

‘That’s it, that’s it,’ Jane encouraged, before pulling her wrist away and stilling his advancement with a hand around his throat, her grip iron strong, not allowing him to move an inch. ‘Now,’ she said, her voice hard and her eyes as black as his. ‘Go and get me someone.’

~

Mitchell spent a long time in the shower the next day, washing away the blood, crying hot tears for the sweet Spanish chambermaid they’d killed last night, too young and with too little English to understand that following Mitchell into that room was a death sentence. Jane felt no remorse. She made phone calls to the right people, wrapped the body in a sheet and bundled it into the laundry trolley for Mitchell to dispose of in a skip at the back of the hotel.

Mitchell didn’t go back to the hotel, he waited for Jane in the car and drove in near silence back to London, barely acknowledging her chatter. He remembered when he’d loved travelling with Jane, leaving havoc in their wake, feedings and fucking in different cities, being mistaken for honeymooners more often than not. He’d once thought himself in love with Jane, now he realised he’d been incapable of loving anyone back then. What was she to him though? Herrick teased him for it, but he always went when she called, there was something magnetic about her, she drew him in. Maybe Herrick was right when he said Jane was his mirror image; vampires can’t see their own image so they seek it in another.

He looked at her, dark curls now voluminous as was the fashion of the day, her small body curled into the car seat. She looked so normal, pretty, but normal. Yet she’d killed hundreds, if not thousands of people. Maybe there’d been a time when he was well on the road to becoming like her, and if things had gone differently maybe he would be. But he’d changed and she hadn’t.

He dropped her off and kissed her goodbye, watched her into her house and made the long drive onto Bristol that night. Despite his tiredness, he couldn’t face another night with her. He got home in the small hours as dawn was starting to break. He made himself coffee and lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag before picking up the phone.

‘Hi, it’s me. Mitchell, John Mitchell,’ he said as a groggy voice answered.

‘Mitchell, it’s five AM, this better be important,’ Carl snapped.

‘It is. You know last week, what we talked about?’

‘What?’

‘In the pub, about getting clean.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Carl said, still waking up.

‘Do you want to give it a go? Help each other out, I really want to do this thing.’

There was a pause, Mitchell waited and took another drag of his cigarette, he was about to hang up when Carl cleared his throat.

‘Yes. Yes, let’s do it,’ he said, sounding both apprehensive and determined. Mitchell smiled with relief.

 

**Present**

Mitchell pressed send on his latest text and finally looked up from his phone and watched Anders as he sat in front of the fish tank, mesmerised by his fish swimming back and forth. He’d barely said a word all morning.

‘Cuppa?’ he finally asked Anders, getting up. He felt dizzy standing and stood still for a moment, trying to regain his composure, he didn’t want Anders to know how much he’d been hurt, how much blood he’d lost last night.  

‘Nah,’ Anders replied, still watching the fish. ‘Do you want to get stoned?’

‘If you like,’ Mitchell said, not sounding like he meant it. Christ, he could hardly stay upright as it was, he hoped to god Carl would come through with what he needed. ‘Anders, are you ok? About last night?’

‘Yeah, I just don’t like blood.’

Mitchell sighed and sat next to Andres, glad to get off his aching legs. ‘It’s more than that. You saw us…like that.’

‘Tearing at each other like animals?’

‘Yeah,’ Mitchell said, shamefully.

‘Who is she?’

‘Jane is an Old One, she’s strong, and she’s very close with another Old One who controls everything here, Charlotte Campbell, she’s about six hundred years old and I sort of owe her a favour. Jane usually deals with other vampires for Charlotte, she doesn’t like to get her hands dirty.’

Anders shook his head. ‘Nah, that wasn’t a message. That was personal. Who is Jane to you? Your ex-girlfriend?’

‘Not really,’ Mitchell said, evasive as Anders turned to face him. His head felt fuzzy and was starting to ache really badly. He didn’t feel up to the third degree about what Jane was to him, something he never had, and still didn’t have, an answer to. ‘Well, we’ve slept together, we were friends of a kind.’

‘Known her long?’

‘Since about 1922. She’s a bit of a handful so I don’t see so much of her the last few years.’

‘I can see she’s a handful. You care about her.’ It wasn’t a question, but a calm statement of fact.

‘No, she’s a mental case who loves being a vampire and she’s down on me because I don’t.’

‘You were really worried when my powers hurt her, you picked her up.’

‘Anders, I couldn’t just leave her there. You did hurt her, a lot, she was in agony.’

‘I didn’t know it would do that, I just wanted her to stop hurting you.’

Mitchell put his arm around Anders and kissed his temple. ‘I know. Thank you.’

‘So, she must be pretty hung up on you to go to all that trouble. Are you sure you’re not married to her in vampire world.’

‘Fuck no,’ Mitchell shuddered at the thought. ‘Look, she was someone I hung out with a lot when I was younger and didn’t care, she was someone I hunted with. Then I met someone in the sixties and it changed me, and we started to hang out less.’

‘But you still saw her?’

‘Well,’ Mitchell shrugged. ‘You know how it is, you move in the same circles.’ He was being evasive, he knew, trying to make it sound casual. Sound like they were acquaintances, not partners in crime going back ninety years, not lovers, not kindred spirits in their bloodlust. He didn’t want to tell Anders that, it would mean opening the door to that whole part of his life, one he’d rather Anders knew nothing about.

‘She seemed pretty keen on you.’

‘She’s sort of nuts. But she’s quite powerful.’

‘Yeah, I got that when she was holding you up by the throat. Ha, imagine getting beaten up by a midget woman.’ He attempted to laugh. ‘What did she want?’

‘She wanted to make me lose blood, lose enough to make me so weak I’d have to feed.’ Mitchell rubbed his forehead, _and she bloody well succeeded_ he thought, inevitable really, he’d not fed properly since Bristol and that horrific night. Abstinence, followed by meagre rations and now more abstinence had left him vulnerable. He wondered yet again if living without blood was even a physical possibility long term. ‘She wants me back in the fold and she probably wanted to fuck you too.’

‘You think that was real?’ Anders said, seeming to perk up at the idea. Mitchell scowled at him.

‘Probably, Jane has big appetites for two things, blood and sex.’

Anders sniggered. ‘I can work with the latter. She was gorgeous until she went nuts.’

‘She is nuts, remember that.’

‘You think she’ll be back?’

‘Yes, for me. She’ll be wary of you now though.’

‘I didn’t know that would happen. I didn’t know I could do that.’ Anders sounded frightened. Mitchell pulled him to his chest and kissed his head.

‘I’m sorry about all of this, I’m sorry I’ve dragged you into this fucking world.’ He truly was, how could he convey to Anders the crushing shame of tainting another life with his curse. ‘But it’s a good thing you can do that, it means they can’t hurt you.’

‘Could I do that to you? Next time I use Bragi on you?’

‘No, not while you love me.’ Mitchell tilted Anders’ head up so they were looking at each other. ‘It’s your affection for me that stops it having that effect on me.’

‘You frighten me when you’re like that, when you dragged her out that bar. I wanted to smack you one.’

‘I’m sorry, but I know her, I know what she can do, what she will do. She’s not some little woman who needs protecting-’

‘She needed protecting when I hurt her, but when you do it’s ok?’

‘I know what she can take, and it’s self-defence.’

 ‘You know what she can take? Dad used to say that when he knocked mum about.’

‘We hunted together! I’m not some wife beater!’ he paused, looked at Anders. ‘Your dad used to knock your mum about?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And you?’

‘Not so much, Mike was pretty good at defending us and I can talk my way out of most things.’

‘I’m sorry, Anders.’ Mitchell really was, he’d had no idea.

‘Did your parents fight?’

‘Mine? God, that’s a long time ago.’ He paused, remembering his parents, he thought of them more these days, since Anders’ powers were working on him. ‘No,’ he said after a bit. ‘They loved each other.’

‘It’s good you come from a happy home,’ Anders said idly.

‘I didn’t say they were happy. We were poor and they lost a lot of babies, that’s why I’m an only child.’

‘What did they die of?’

‘I don’t know, babies often did back then, especially where we lived, it was really poor, we had two rooms, one we slept in, one we lived in. We grew stuff and I went to work with my dad when I was twelve. Mum wanted me to stay on at school, but… anyway.’ Mitchell pulled at his lips, as if trying to stop more coming out. He didn’t like thinking of his human life, it made him sad, for all that he’d lost. Luckily, Anders was ready to change the subject.

‘When did you last hunt with Jane?’

Mitchell didn’t want to change to that subject. He swallowed and looked away. ‘It doesn’t matter. Look, forget about her, she’s not going to bother you and I will deal with her.’ Mitchell stroked Anders’ cheek. ‘My love, nothing will come between us.’ He kissed Anders. ‘I love you so much, you’re everything to me.’

Anders nodded and let Mitchell kiss him. ‘I know. She just seems to mean something to you.’

‘She does mean something to me, she means fucking trouble!’ Mitchell’s phone beeped and he checked it immediately, breathing a sigh of relief at Carl’s message, _got it_. ‘Look, I have to go and see Carl today, I need to warn him about Jane.’ Mitchell was feeling worse by the minute and he could only pass it off as a hangover for so long, he didn’t want Anders to know, it felt like an admittance of failure.

‘You want me to come?’

‘No, it’s better I explain by myself. You get some rest, I’ll be back later.’ He stroked Anders’ hair back and smiled softly. ‘It’s getting long, you’ll look like me soon.’

‘No chance, scruffy.’

Mitchell smiled again and kissed him. ‘And remember if she does turn up here, don’t let her in. She needs to be invited in, even Jane isn’t powerful enough to overcome that. Yet.’

Anders nodded, standing to hug Mitchell before he left. ‘Don’t hit her like that again, John. Just grab her, hold her off or something.’ It seemed important to Anders that he said this.

‘Anders, she’s not a normal woman. She’s not like your mum. She can lift me off the ground and choke me. I know she doesn’t look it, but she’s more than a match for me physically, in fact she’s a lot stronger.’

‘Still, only a real bastard would hit a woman.’

Mitchell sighed. ‘Well, now you know. Anders, if I had your power over her I’d never do it. Look, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again. I won’t see her again if I can help it.’ He kissed Anders again, softly and tenderly. ‘I’m sorry. I love you.’

Anders broke their embrace and squeezed Mitchell’s arm. ‘Go on, warn Mr Gay Vampire UK that Miss Slutty Vampire Bitch is on your tail.’

‘Mr Gay Vampire UK?’ Mitchell mouthed, eyes widening.

‘God, yeah, all that going to the gym and smooth chest? Bang on beauty pageant winner. Oh, don’t look at me like that, you need to be well groomed for these gay contests, John.’

Mitchell nodded wordlessly before bursting out laughing as he left the flat, his heart swelling with affection for his outrageous boyfriend.

~

‘Did you get it?’ Mitchell asked urgently, no preamble as he burst through the door.

‘Hello, Carl, nice to see you. How are you? Sorry for all the crazy texts in the middle of the night.’ Carl said, voice dripping with sarcasm. He surveyed Mitchell. ‘Christ, you do look terrible.’

Mitchell nodded, collapsing into a kitchen chair and watching whilst Carl poured him a large glass of blood from a used milk carton. Mitchell looked at the glass, it was a pint glass lifted from a beer garden in the summer, almost full to the brim. He felt nothing, no anticipation, no craving. Carl sat the glass down and watched as Mitchell drank it steadily.

‘It’s a bit off,’ Mitchell complained.

‘It’s fresh from the vein this morning. Tasted fine to me. I had to call in a lot of favours to get that and you owe me fifty quid.’

‘Why?’

‘That was Becky’s price to come over at 7am on Sunday morning.’

‘Right, sorry.’

‘And while we’re on sorrys. You have a guest.’

‘A guest?’ Mitchell looked up at Carl, puzzled, but feeling his strength returning, he topped up the glass and drank more, it wasn’t a bad injury, a couple of pints would sort him. He hadn’t wanted to admit to Anders that Jane had weakened him enough to need to feed physically, even if he didn’t crave blood thanks to Bragi. He might not want blood, but he needed it.

‘She’s in your bedroom.’

‘She?’ Mitchell said, a sense of dread forming a knot in his stomach. He got up and bounded up the stairs, pushed his bedroom door open and saw Jane sprawled over his bed, fast asleep.

~

Anders took one last drag and put out the spliff he’d been smoking on and off since Mitchell left. He poured himself a glass of vodka and downed it, poured another. There, just out of it enough to skype his family, not out of it enough to forget what he was saying. He went to the laptop on the coffee table and dialled Mike, as arranged.

‘Hi, Anders?’ his brother said, looking inexplicably puzzled like he always did when answering a skype call.

‘Hi, how you doing?’

‘Good, you?’

‘You know, spreading a little joy to vacuous idiots in the world of PR.’

‘So, what’s all this you want to talk about?’

‘Is Olaf there?’

‘He’s getting a sandwich. What’s the problem?’ Mike was starting to sound annoyed. ‘Are you in trouble?’

‘No,’ Anders said, wondering if that was still true.

‘Then what is it?’

‘Are you an oracle?’

‘No, but I’m your brother.’

‘Are your powers getting stronger?’

‘Not that I’ve noticed.’ Mike shrugged.

‘Is Axl banging loads of chicks these days?’

‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

‘I just wondered if he’d finally started behaving like the mighty all father he’s meant to be.’

‘Why does that involve banging chicks?’

‘He’s a god, Mikkel!’

‘Anyway, are your powers stronger?’ Mike asked, trying to get back to the point.

‘Yes, yes they are.’

‘And what about Ty?’

‘Hard to tell, it’s so fucking freezing in this damn country.’

Mike rolled his eyes and Anders took a slug of vodka. ‘Have you asked him?’

‘Yeah, he says no. Oh, they say hi by the way.’

‘So, how are your powers stronger? Are you sure people aren’t just stupider over there?’

‘Ha ha. No, I can talk people round so easily now. Frankly it takes all the fucking fun out of it. And lots of people, all at once.’

‘You could do that here.’

‘And people who aren’t human.’

‘Gods?’

‘Not exactly. Is Grandpa there yet?’

‘No. So, how’s your, you know, boyfriend?’

‘Hot, really hot.’ Mike rolled his eyes in response.

‘I meant in the more general sense.’

‘He’s good.’

‘Michele wants a photo by the way, she doesn’t believe your claims that he’s hot.’

‘That could be a problem.’

‘You keeping him secret? It’s ok, we all know. Well, not Axl, but that’s for you to tell him.’

‘He’s not secret, but he is a vampire and as such his image can’t be captured on camera.’

‘Anders…’ Mike sighed, bored of Anders’ game. Anders groaned, but was pleased to see Olaf zoom into view.

‘Stop winding him up, Anders,’ Olaf said, then his face broke into a grin. ‘Good to see you.’ Olaf poked the screen. ‘It’s so cool how you’re there and here at the same time, isn’t technology amazing? Even Heimdall can’t do this shit.’

‘Who?’

‘Ohh,’ Olaf poked the screen. ‘Can you feel it when I touch your face?’

‘No, Grandpa,’ Anders said, laughing along with Mike in the background.

‘It’s so good to see you, Anders, our poet from over the seas!’

‘Good to see you too.’ Anders smiled at his grandfather. ‘And I’m not winding him up. John is a vampire.’

‘Really?’ Olaf said, looking more serious.

‘Yes, he’s one hundred and nineteen, drinks blood, or used to. I’m, er, using my powers to talk him out of wanting blood.’ Anders sounded vaguely embarrassed, he watched Olaf’s face grow very serious. ‘So, yeah, I think my powers are getting stronger, kind of like a work out for the god, maybe?’ He looked at Olaf, desperate for answers.

‘A vampire? How did you meet a vampire?’ Olaf sounded both impressed and worried.

‘Dawn got mugged a few months back and he saved her from a man with a knife.’

‘The guy Ty complains she has a crush on?’ Olaf asked. Anders burst out laughing.

‘Yeah, I had to talk her out of trying to photograph him, she seriously has the hots for him. And I don’t blame her, he’s gorgeous. Like seriously sexy.’

‘Vampires are very charming, Anders. On the surface,’ Olaf warned. ‘But they do bad things.’

‘I know what he is.’

‘They’re bad people,’ Olaf said, lighting up a spiff and inhaling deeply, ignoring Mike’s protests in the background.

‘John’s not bad, he’s lovely. He’s the most sweet and caring guy, and he’s a very generous lover. And I really care about him, so I’m helping him.’

‘Are you in love?’

‘Guess so,’ Anders admitted.

‘And are you sure it’s not just his vampirism attracting you?’

‘Fuck off!’ Anders cried, offended and thinking of Idunn. ‘No. I’ve met his flatmate who’s a vampire, and another vampire and I didn’t fall for them. Though she was hot, really hot actually, but mental, sort of like a goddess.’

‘Anders, have you found a nest of vampires?’ Olaf asked wide eyed.

‘No, no, though I think John’s just about moved in and possibly has a psycho bitch ex-girlfriend.’

‘How psycho?’

‘Think Michele with ultra killing powers.’

‘That’s baaaad, Anders.’

‘It’s ok, Bragi is like kryptonite for her, lays her out, bam.’

‘But Bragi doesn’t hurt your boyfriend?’

‘He says it’s because of my affection for him.’

‘Right,’ Olaf took a deep drag on his spliff and said nothing.

‘Grandpa, I keep babbling this Norse shit too, when I’m doing my thing on John, and last night, when I talked psycho bitch out of … anyway, what’s a draugr?’

‘An undead creature.’

‘Like a vampire?’

‘Yeah,’ Olaf said, as if Anders had hit on something he hadn’t thought of. Anders rolled his eyes.

‘Grandpa, do you know anything about vampires at all?’

‘I heard there were some when I was backpacking through Europe in the mid-nineties, around Transylvania.’

‘But do you actually, as an oracle, know anything about them?’

Olaf paused, looking more confused than normal. ‘No,’ he finally said. ‘But I can ask Ingrid, she knows loads of cool shit I don’t.’

‘And knows how to work a fucking computer. Look if she knows anything get her to skype me.’

‘Okay, nice to see you Anders.’ Olaf waved and got up, Anders could then hear him and Mike exchanging increasingly terse words, before Mike’s face suddenly filled the screen, angrily.

‘What’s all this about you dating a fucking vampire? Are you out of your tiny mind?’ Mike practically shouted.

‘I’ve been trying to tell you!’ Anders shouted back, exasperated.

‘I thought that was you dicking about. Are you insane? Do you know what those things do?’

‘Yes, but they don’t want my blood, I’m safe. I’m a god, Mike, a god who can control them with my words. And he’s not a _thing_!’

‘What?’

‘I’m talking him out of craving blood.’

‘Jesus, he knows about us?’

‘Of course he fucking knows. He knew when he didn’t want to snack on me.’

‘You told a creature, a fucking undead creature, about god business. Does Ty know about this?’

‘Ty likes him.’

‘Until he eats Dawn for supper.’

‘They don’t eat people, he’s not Hannibal fucking Lecter. And Dawn adores him.’ Anders sniggered, knowing it would wind Mike up more. ‘How do you know so much anyway? Olaf knows fuck all about vampires.’

‘Well, there’s a surprise. Ingrid was telling us the other night, Michele and I were telling her about your dickhead texts. I didn’t for a bloody minute think they were true. God, Anders. You cannot date a fucking vampire.’

‘Why the fuck not? He’s no danger to me.’

‘He’s a danger to the world. Jesus, Anders, you’re a Norse god, you can’t just shack up with the undead!’

‘You shacked up with Val for years.’

‘Anders,’ Mike said, straining with the effort of not rising to the bait. ‘You can’t just sleep with an undead creature, they’re the creatures of the devil and you’re a vessel of a god.’

‘Well, thanks for that little chat, Mike. It’s been lovely. For your information, I’ve been shagging John since March and the world hasn’t caved in yet, nobody’s died, in fact I’ve probably saved lives as I’m talking him out of wanting blood, I have _huge_ power over them if I wish and he is the hottest, most interesting person, who is quite frankly the best lay I’ve ever had, so if I want to fall in love with him I will. Oh, and tell Michele he’s not up for a threesome yet, but I’ll talk him into it if she’s very nice to me.’ Anders smiled at Mike before slamming the laptop shut and downing the rest of his vodka.

‘Fucking Mike,’ he fumed, but inside he was feeling sick at the possibility there could be truth in Mike’s words. He picked up his phone, nothing from Mitchell. He called him and poured himself another vodka as the phone rang.

‘Hi,’ Mitchell answered sounding edgy.

‘John, we need to go out and get absolutely hammered.’

‘Good idea, I’ll meet you later,’ Mitchell said, sounding flat.

‘Later? How about fucking now.’

‘Now could be a problem.’

‘How so?’

‘We have a guest.’

‘Who?’ Anders asked, knowing the answer already, a knot forming in his stomach.

‘She was already here when I got here, I’m sorry.’

‘I’m coming. Try not to kill each other before I get there.’

Anders ended the call and picked up the vodka, taking a swig straight from the bottle.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Lancette for help and laughs always.


	10. Bring me your god

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will the vampires get what they want from Anders and Mitchell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait between chapters, I was a bit stuck, then Christmas etc. Thanks again for Lancette for helping me become unstuck.

There was a banging coming from somewhere, it hurt his temples and forehead and seemed to reverberate through his body, making him feel sick. Mitchell rolled over and groaned. ‘Oh god, what were we doing?’ he moaned into Anders’ shoulder, his head pounding. Anders made an indistinct grunt and pulled the covers over his shoulder. ‘What’s that noise?’ Mitchell asked as the banging started again. Anders mumbled something and pulled Mitchell closer, snuggling into his chest.

‘Anders!’ Dawn’s voice called. Both men flinched at the noise and Mitchell nudged Anders.

‘Wake up,’ Mitchell told him. ‘It’s Dawn.’

‘What?’ Anders groaned, opening his eyes and rubbing them. ‘Why’s she here on a Sunday?’

‘Because,’ Dawn said, standing in the open doorway to their bedroom. ‘It’s Monday.’

‘Oh shit,’ Anders said, rolling onto his back and moaning. ‘My head really fucking hurts.’

‘That’s quite a party you’ve had,’ Dawn said coldly, having seen the debris from their forty-eight hour bender: empty bottles, empty glasses, discarded pizza boxes, an ashtray over flowing with not only Mitchell’s cigarettes but the remains of spliffs and the only space on the coffee table was a suspicious dusty white and had an rolled up bank note and credit card next to it.

Mitchell felt guilty as he remembered what had happened. Anders had torn into Carl’s flat just as Jane had left. She’d literally woken up, handed him a letter, planted an audacious kiss on his lips and skipped out the house into a waiting car. The letter was an invitation to a party on Monday night. Which was now tonight. _Shit_.

Anders and Mitchell had read the letter, and not knowing what it meant for either of them, both frightened and confused by their encounter the previous night, declined Carl’s offer to stay and talk in favour of going home and getting wasted.

It had seemed a good idea at the time. Anders had good drink and drugs, the sex was good. Well, it was good until they got too drunk to work out where to put what, never mind keep it up. Anders had wanted to go out and get more drugs to fix that, but passed out before he could manage to. It no longer seemed a good idea. Dawn looked both furious and disappointed, Mitchell was required to attend some kind of vampire meeting and worst of all there were no more drugs. He reached out to the bedside table and grabbed his cigarettes, sitting up a little to light one.

‘You’ll get Dawn all excited,’ Anders mumbled, still rubbing his face. ‘Showing her your naked chest,’ he managed to snigger despite his hangover.

‘Anders,’ Dawn ground out even as she blushed. ‘Are you planning to go to work today?’

‘Probably not,’ Anders yawned. ‘You can manage. _Hey Dawn,’_ he said, Bragi on his lips. ‘ _Why don’t you pop down to the café and get me and John a coffee and bacon roll, then if you could just help tidy the place before you go back? You’re amazing, Dawn, thanks._ ’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Dawn said, smiling before heading off to do as Anders had asked. Mitchell kicked him.

‘That was mean,’ Mitchell said. ‘You shouldn’t take advantage of her like that.’

‘Do you want to go instead?’ Anders asked. Mitchell shrugged.

‘Well no, but that’s not the point, don’t use your powers on Dawn, she’s too nice.’

‘You and Dawn should just get married, you love each other so much, urg, it makes me want to puke.’

‘That’s the hangover.’

‘Ha ha, anyway, I blame you for this.’

‘Me?’

Anders wrapped his arms around Mitchell’s torso and lay his sore head on his chest, letting his fingers idly play with the hair running down Mitchell’s stomach.

‘Yes, I’ve never met anyone who shares my love of getting wasted and having sex so much before.’ Mitchell laughed at that. ‘It’s true, and don’t laugh, it jogs my head.’

~

Anders was in the shower when Mitchell finally got up, having gratefully consumed the coffee and food Dawn had brought. He found her cleaning the living room, her faced creased into a frown.

‘Hey, leave that,’ he said, taking the cloth she was using to wipe down the coffee table out of her hand.

‘I’ve got to get this place cleaned up,’ Dawn sighed.

‘No you don’t, we’ll do that. Anders shouldn’t ask you to do things like that. Sit down, I’ll make you a cup of tea.’ Mitchell smiled, the throbbing behind his eyes had eased after coffee, food, neurofen and ten minutes under a hot shower.

‘You’re so nice,’ Dawn said sitting down and smiling at him. ‘I wish Anders would take a leaf out of your book.’ She frowned again thinking of her boss. ‘You know he had a meeting at nine, I had to do it myself.’

‘He’s really sorry about that,’ Mitchell said, cringing.

‘No he’s not, you are. He thinks it’s funny. Honestly, I could kill him some days, I don’t know how you put up with him.’

‘He’s different with me,’ Mitchell said, wiping the table and sweeping a pile of debris into his hand.

‘I’m glad to hear it.’ She frowned and folded her arms. ‘Good weekend then?’

‘In parts,’ Mitchell replied. ‘Did you see my fags?’

‘In the kitchen,’ Dawn replied. Mitchell walked over to the kitchen and fetched them. ‘You should smoke less. It’s bad for your health.’

‘I get by,’ Mitchell shrugged, lighting up. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll open a window.’ He opened the kitchen window and blew the smoke towards it before opening the cupboard next to the cooker to get himself some cereal, scanning the boxes to choose what to have. ‘Did you go shopping, Dawn?’

‘No, your Ocado order was by the front door. From last night.’

‘Sorry,’ Mitchell said again, grinning apologetically. ‘We just got carried away, Friday night was a little rough, we needed cheering up.’

‘Sorry to hear that,’ Dawn said, getting up to join Mitchell in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. ‘How so?’

‘Bad night out, but we got over it.’ Mitchell picked up a box of crunchy nut cornflakes after putting out his cigarette. He stared at the kitchen counter. ‘Dawn, do you know why there’s a pack of condoms on the side, and leaflets about safe sex, ohhhh, safe gay sex?’ He tried to suppress giggle.

‘Is there?’ she said, her voice high pitched and colour rising.

‘Yes. And I’m pretty sure they’re not mine or Anders’.’

‘Well, you know, safe sex.’

‘Yes?’

‘Well, you know, you need condoms…’ she was crimson and twisting her fingers together. ‘Look, you’re a lovely guy and Anders, well, he’s had a lot of girlfriends, probably a lot of boyfriends too, he’s never really settled and…’

‘He’ll shag anything that moves?’ Mitchell suggested, a smile tugging at his lips.

‘You said it. I just worry, I mean I heard him the other day,’ she was now blushing a deep red. ‘Telling Ty he hates condoms and he’s glad he never has to buy them anymore, he was winding Ty up about something, saying he was iceman, because Ty never feels the cold you see, but you know Anders, making crude comments about things,’ she was babbling now. ‘And I realised that meant… and I thought, oh my god, because you’re so nice and I was worried, so yeah, I though… oh I feel so stupid now. Sorry.’

Mitchell was fighting the urge not to laugh. What could he say? _I’m a vampire, I don’t get or carry disease_? Instead he squeezed her hand.

‘That’s really sweet and I appreciate it. Just so you know we’re both tested and fine.’ He smiled at her and she gave him a weak smile back.

‘And you… you trust Anders?’

He knew what she was getting at, Dawn was probably well aware there had been women since Anders met Mitchell. He couldn’t imagine Anders was terribly discreet.

‘I know all about Anders,’ Mitchell said seriously, giving her a knowing look. ‘I know. And I trust him with my life.’

‘Wow, you really love him, don’t you?’

Mitchell nodded. ‘I do,’ he smiled softly. ‘I didn’t think I could fall in love again, but then I met Anders.’

‘So you’re ok now, about being with him?’

‘Of course.’ Mitchell suddenly realised Anders must have confided in Dawn about their relationship. He wondered what he’d said. ‘Did he think I wasn’t?’

‘He wasn’t sure, I’m glad you are, so is he. You’re good for him.’

‘Thanks. I was just worried about… my relationships don’t end well. I didn’t want to hurt him.’

‘You look so sad sometimes,’ Dawn said. ‘Your eyes remind me of this old man that used to sit on a bench in the park I went running in in Auckland, he’d fought in the war, he was so old and you’re young, but he had the same look in his eyes when he talked about things. Haunted I guess. You were in the army weren’t you?’

‘Yes, a long time ago.’

Dawn laughed. ‘You talk like you’re so old, you can’t be any older than me.’

Mitchell smiled, held out his hands. ‘I’ve got around I guess.’

‘And now you’re here with Anders.’

‘I guess I am.’

‘You know he’s never been with anyone this long, or even more than a week before.’

Mitchell didn’t know what to say, he just smiled again. ‘I guess we have something special.’

‘Well, if you can put up with Anders and keep up with his benders you must have something special.’

‘He’s fun, and I really love him.’ Mitchell put his arm around Dawn. ‘He does really care about you too, I know he’s not great at showing it, but he does. And I do too, I really appreciate the way you look after him, he needs looking after.’

‘And so do you,’ Dawn said, smiling up at him. ‘Especially if you’re going to drink with him all weekend. You need to eat more healthily. You know Ty really likes this muesli I found, it has fruit pieces in it.’

‘That’s nice, ‘ Mitchell said, his eyes widening in horror at the thought and being reminded of Annie, the way she cared about the little things, cared about him in a way nobody else did, it tugged at his heart, even now. He hoped Dawn never met Annie, they’d set new records in fussing.

‘Well, you might like it too,’ she smiled. ‘Junk food isn’t good for you. I bet you were one of those kids who only ate the marshmallow bits out of Lucky Charms.’

‘Hey, when I was a kid I had a very healthy diet.’

‘Yeah? What did you have for breakfast?’ Dawn asked. ‘I used to have cornflakes, every day. I still do. Ty says it’s boring, but I like boring in the morning.’

‘I had bread for breakfast,’ Mitchell said. ‘And tea. We didn’t have a lot of coffee back then.’

Dawn laughed. ‘Back then?’

‘You know, Ireland is different.’

‘I’d love to go to Dublin. Hey, we should go, you and Anders and me and Ty. You could show us around.’

‘I don’t go back,’ Mitchell said quickly, glad to hear the shower had stopped and Anders would soon be there.

‘Not even to see your family?’

‘I don’t have any family.’

‘How so?’ Dawn looked puzzled. ‘I thought the Irish all had big families.’

‘Mine are all dead.’

‘All of them? Oh god, that’s awful, I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s okay, it was a long time ago.’

Dawn gave Mitchell a hug. ‘I had no idea, I’m really sorry.’ He smiled awkwardly. Dawn was going to fuss over him even more now, it was sweet, but opening up his life to Dawn carried risks.

‘Oh, I knew it,’ Anders said, wandering in. ‘I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re all over each other.’

‘Mitchell was just telling me about his family,’ Dawn snapped at Anders.

‘What about them?’

‘They’re all dead.’

‘Yeah, it’s terrible to use someone’s tragedy as an excuse to molest them.’

‘Anders,’ Mitchell chided. ‘Don’t be a dick.’

Dawn mouthed at Mitchell, ‘how do you put up with him?’ Mitchell shrugged.

Anders grinned and kissed Mitchell’s lips. ‘Now, Dawn, I’m not coming in until two, then I’ll quickly meet that new appointment, then leave you to sort out the details.’

‘Anders! There’s loads to do. You need to prepare for your meeting tomorrow, and there’s the river boat Christmas offer to finalise. We need to book a photographer for the hotel people.’

‘Oh they just want a few pictures of hotel rooms and a nice shot of the exteriors. John can do it.’

‘Can I indeed?’ Mitchell asked, eyebrow raised.

‘I have faith in your talents. By the way,’ he lowered his voice and pulled Mitchell aside so Dawn couldn’t hear. ‘Is there anymore gak left?’

‘No. You snorted it all.’

‘You lost half of it! I blame you for this.’

‘It’s not my fault you wanted to snort it off my stomach,’ Mitchell hissed.

‘It’s your fault you moved.’

‘It tickled!’ Mitchell pulled away and turned to Dawn. ‘Anyway, sorry, Dawn. Anders will be at the office soon, I promise. I’m really sorry.’

‘Dawn, did you finish tidying up?’ Anders interjected.

‘No, she didn’t, because that’s our job,’ Mitchell said, scowling at Anders.

Anders rolled his eyes and switched the coffee machine on. ‘Well, off you trot then, Dawn,’ he said. ‘Lots to do as you say, see you at two.’

Dawn sighed and picked up her handbag. ‘Thanks for everything,’ Mitchell said, giving her a hug.

‘Get a room,’ Anders muttered.

‘I better see you later,’ Dawn told Anders before heading through the door. ‘Mitchell, can you just kick him or something if he doesn’t leave by one-thirty?’

‘With pleasure,’ Mitchell said, smiling as she waved goodbye. He waited until the front door closed then rounded on Anders. ‘Why are you such a dick to her? I know you adore her.’

‘Are you going to get all Big Bad John on me? Ohh, sexy,’ Anders gave a shudder that was only half feigned as Mitchell scowled at him. ‘Look, I pay her well and Dawn’s one of those weird people that likes doing things for other people.’

‘Weird people? Are you saying you don’t like the things you do for me?’

‘What do I do for you? Apart from the Bragi things and sex?’ he looked genuinely puzzled. Mitchell rolled his eyes.

‘You buy food I like,’ he pointed to the cereal cupboard.

‘Got to keep your strength up,’ Anders winked. ‘Why’s there a box of johnnies there by the way?’

‘Dawn thought we should practice safe sex, basically she thinks you’re a slut who’ll give me a disease.’

‘What did you tell her?’

‘That you’re a slut, but it’s ok as I’m a vampire.’ He laughed at the look on Anders’ face. ‘Come on! I told her we’d been tested.’

‘Honestly, that woman just wants to put one on for you.’

‘She does not. You’re cruel teasing her about fancying me.’

‘John, everyone fancies you.’ Mitchell laughed shaking his head. ‘You can even wear trackies and a vest when you’re hung over and look hot. She should’ve seen you in that little towel when you came out of the shower.’ Anders winked, then came and looped his arms around Mitchell’s waist, kissing him. ‘I fancy you the most though,’ Anders murmured, his hands wandering into the back of Mitchell’s trackies and kneading his buttocks. Mitchell moaned softly, then pulled away.

‘What’s up?’ Anders asked.

‘Tonight,’ Mitchell said, his face falling into a solemn expression. ‘I think Charlotte wants me on board, she runs a tight operation here, fingers in lots of pies and I owe her big time.’

‘What for?’ Anders curiosity was peaked.

‘Sorting stuff out for me, vampire stuff,’ Mitchell waved dismissively. ‘And now she wants me to help her.’

‘How?’

‘I’m not sure exactly, but probably by acting as some kind of enforcer for her. Or worse a poster boy.’

‘Why would you be a poster boy? You don’t even like being a vampire.’

‘I used to like it,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve done things…’ his voice trailed off. ‘Such things, Anders and one day you’ll hate me for it.’

‘No I won’t,’ Anders insisted. Mitchell smiled sadly at him. ‘I’m a god, not some snivelling mortal. Gods have killed people too.’

‘Yeah, but not recently.’

‘John, before I left New Zealand Colin, he’s Loki, incinerated a god-hunter – mad Jesus nut job- who killed Helen, and Mike buried Helen’s body in the woods. Mum killed Ty’s wife, Eva, and Axl sentenced our own mother to live as a tree for a human life time, then Colin burned the forest that tree was in. Gods aren’t exactly all sunshine and light. Oh and Thor always wants to kill people. He’s fucking insane.’

Mitchell nodded, not convinced. ‘Look,’ Anders continued. ‘We go tonight, find out what they want and if it’s horrible I’ll do my Bragi thing and they’ll all burn in hell or whatever.’

‘You’re not coming!’ Mitchell said hotly. ‘There is no way in the world I’m letting you come, it’s too dangerous.’

‘For them, not for me.’

‘Did you see the invitation? It was written in blood, that means vampires only.’

‘That’s gross. But how are they going to stop me?’

‘Charlotte always gets her way and if she has it in for me, you being there isn’t going to stop her, sometime, somewhere she will get me if that’s what she wants. And your thing might not work on her.’

‘How so?’

‘The older the vampire the stronger they are, she’s over seven hundred years old, crosses and bibles don’t hurt her anymore.’

‘Right, well, I can still affect the rest of them and you said Jane is old too.’

‘She is. But you’re not coming, I’m not dragging you into that fucking world.’

He walked into the living room area and sat on the sofa arms folded. Anders followed and stood over him. ‘I thought we trusted each other?’

‘I trust you with my life,’ Mitchell replied. ‘But I’m not bringing you into it. Depending on what they want I may or may not have to go along with it for a bit. But if it’s my time, then I’m ready.’

‘What’s that mean?’ Anders said, his voice rising.

‘I’m one hundred and nineteen. I’ve lived a long, long life. I’m not frightened of dying. I’ve seen too much.’

Anders looked horrified. He sat next to Mitchell and grabbed his hand. ‘And what about me?’

‘You have saved me, but you can’t save me forever. You’ll be fine.’

Anders sat stock still, his stomach felt as though it had fallen out. ‘Are you saying you’d walk in there even if you knew you were walking to your death?’

‘Yes. I’d rather they finished me than be part of their games again. They won’t leave us alone, Anders, I know these people. Jane’s stunt on Friday was a warning, she wanted to show she can always get to me, get to you.’

‘Then we’ll go to New Zealand.’

Mitchell sighed. ‘There aren’t any vampires in New Zealand, did you know that? We could run for a time, but they’d find us eventually. And one day you’d die and I’d fail again and there’d be a nest of vampires in New Zealand and I’d have infected somewhere pure, somewhere safe from us.’

Anders let go of Mitchell’s hand. ‘Well fuck you then. I thought I meant something to you, but obviously fucking not.’

‘Anders…’

‘No, you’re sitting here talking about walking to your death, like it’s nothing, like you want a release almost, but what about me? What am I meant to do then?’

Mitchell sighed reached for Anders’ arm, which was snatched away. ‘Anders, my love, I’m sorry. You know I love you, but everyone dies.’

‘Not you.’

‘You’ll be fine without me, if that’s what it comes to.’ Mitchell’s face was full of concern now. Ever since Bristol he’d stopped fearing death, he didn’t have the heart to ask George or Carl to do it, and driving a stake through your own heart was surprisingly difficult. He’d thought about it a lot though, wished for it, for the release, he couldn’t stand being this creature anymore. And Jane had succeeded, she’d forced him to drink, shown him he could never escape them. Anders had no idea.

‘Did you ever think of how I’d feel if you just went and got yourself killed?’ Anders said, voice rising and standing up. ‘Should have fucking known, you were never gonna stick around.’ Anders walked off, grabbing his jacket and slamming the front door behind him. Mitchell sighed and tipped his head back. That had gone about as badly as it could have. How could he expect Anders to understand? Anders had no idea of the horrors he’d seen, the horrors he’d committed.

Mitchell examined the rings on his fingers, remembering the men with sticks and ropes. He felt a shiver of fear, remembered Annie in that place. But then he thought of spending another one hundred years like this, of all the people he would kill, the lives he would ruin, he thought of Lia and her brother. There would be many more Lias. Anders didn’t understand.

~

Carl was relieved to finally see Mitchell when he got home on Monday afternoon. But he was also angry, Mitchell didn’t blame him really, but he couldn’t deal with it now. ‘Care to explain what the hell’s been going on?’ Carl asked, standing in the doorway of Mitchell’s room as Mitchell got changed. ‘With you, Jane and Anders?’

‘Nothing,’ Mitchell said evasively. He was worried about what was going to happen tonight and wasn’t in the mood for interrogations.

‘She seems to be under the impression Anders was keen to sleep with her.’

‘Well, you know, she’s quite pretty, if you like that kind of thing.’

‘Yes, but why would Anders be chatting her up? When he has you?’

‘Look, it’s just a game. We just play around, we never do anything,’ Mitchell said, exasperated. ‘We go home with each other.’

‘Oh God,’ Carl groaned. ‘And what if it got out of hand? You don’t have a great record with one night stands, Mitchell!’

‘Look, it can’t get out of hand for two reasons.’ Mitchell stopped getting dressed and turned to face Carl. ‘Firstly, I like to fuck Anders’ brains out after watching him flirt all night,’ he gave a twisted, satisfied smile. ‘And he’s using his powers on me so I don’t want blood. So I’m safe.’

‘Using his powers?’ Carl said softly. ‘You mean his speech? The speech that hurt Jane?’

‘It doesn’t hurt me cos he loves me, and it works.’

‘Mitchell, are you for real?’

‘Yes. I told you I was going to get him to do it and he does.’

‘And how long does the effect last?’ Carl was intrigued.

‘A few days, then he does it again.’

‘And this is why you put up with him chatting Jane up in clubs?’

‘Look, that was nothing, he… he was doing it to wind me up.’

‘Wind you up?’

Mitchell blushed and said in a low voice, looking at the floor. ‘You know, so I’d fuck him harder.’

Carl let out a bark of laughter, then turned serious again. ‘You trust him to do this?’

‘Yeah,’ Mitchell said, he was fed up of this conversation now. He knew what Carl was building up to, don’t trust Anders. Carl didn’t like Anders, didn’t get him Mitchell thought. He thought Anders was crude and thoughtless.

‘Then you’re a fool. You don’t know anything about gods. I’ve been reading and …’

‘Just stop it,’ Mitchell snapped.

‘No, you need to think about this. We’re vampires, Mitchell. He’s a god. Have you even thought about what it could mean when you mix them up?’

‘Yes, damn good sex.’ Mitchell scowled at Carl.

‘You’re even starting to sound like him,’ Carl spat as he turned on his heel. Mitchell slammed the door and cursed. He hated fighting with Carl, who was one of his oldest friends, but Carl had taken a dislike to Anders and it pained Mitchell.

~

It was dark by the time Mitchell and Carl arrived at the Westminster dock and joined the line of people waiting to get on the boat. They had only spoken when necessary on the way and now nodded in acknowledgement to the people they knew. Mitchell noticed the sideways glances and whispers that accompanied his arrival. Their invitations were checked by a blond girl in one of the crew uniforms. Mitchell was uncomfortable that this was the same river boat company that Anders did PR for. He seriously doubted it was a coincidence. Mitchell didn’t recognise the blond girl. But that meant nothing, he was out the loop with the London scene.

As they boarded the boat Mitchell noticed the line part to let someone through. He let out an inward sigh. Jane had arrived. She was dressed in black jeans, a black top and black leather jacket, her black hair falling in large looping curls down her back. She gave Mitchell a wink as she passed him.

‘Evenin’ ‘andsome,’ she said in a low voice, moving on before her had time to respond. Mitchell sighed again and headed for the bar. There weren’t many people there yet and he got served quickly. He’d brought a drink for Carl too, hoping it would be a peace offering, but when he returned Carl had disappeared. Mitchell searched the room and couldn’t see him and decided he must have gone up on deck. It was a clear night, the stars were out and the city glittered on the water.

Holding the two bottles of Peroni in one hand Mitchell used the other hand to steady himself as he climbed the small steep steps to the top deck. He heard Carl’s voice before he reached the top.

‘Why can’t you just leave him be?’ Carl asked, he sounded nervous, Mitchell paused on the stairs, waiting to see who would answer.

‘What’s it to you?’ Jane replied. Mitchell knew Jane was intimidating to most vampires, including Carl, no wonder he sounded nervous.

‘He’s my friend. And he doesn’t deserve you hunting him.’ Jane laughed at that. ‘Why does it matter to you what Mitchell does these days?’

‘Mitchell is mine, I let you borrow ‘im for a bit, I let Anders borrow ‘im. But ‘e’s mine and ‘e’ll always come back to me.’

‘He doesn’t want you anymore. He doesn’t want this life. He’d rather die.’

‘Then that would be an awful shame.’ She paused, Mitchell took another step and saw they were leaning against the railings looking at the South Bank. ‘I remember when I first met Mitchell,’ Jane continued. ‘I’d waited nearly one ‘undred and fifty years to find someone who could match my appetites. And by God ‘e were ‘andsome. You remember when ‘e wore suits? ‘E were in a black tuxedo and ‘is ‘air were slicked back. ‘E had a little moustache and I could tell when ‘e looked at me ‘e wanted to devour me, ‘e didn’t know what I was. The ‘unger was there, ‘e’d have ripped me throat out there and then if ‘e could ‘ave. Then that sad old twat told ‘im ‘oo I was and ‘e went all shy on me.’

‘He obviously got over that,’ Carl said dryly, his nerves seeming to fade and Jane opened up a little.

‘I walked right up to ‘im and told ‘im that we could ‘ave much more fun in my room. Can you believe ‘e was all nervous and completely fuckin’ useless in all ‘onesty. I were going to complain that that fucker Herrick ‘ad sent me some kind of virgin. But ‘e were so pretty I took ‘im when I picked up someone to feed from. I got a young man, nice looking, playing the slut works ever so well in any era, you know. Anyway, I told Mitchell to sit and watch.’

Mitchell could hear the smile in Jane’s voice as she recounted their first night together. He remembered it too, the man had been about his age, overly confident, a little rough with Jane, seeing her as some kind of prostitute there to be used. He’d waited in the opulent hotel room hidden behind an oriental screen, watching through the gap between the panels as Jane slipped off her dress revealing herself to be entirely naked but for her stockings and suspenders. He’d been hopelessly hard for her, and the man, who was fast undressing and shoving Jane unceremoniously to the bed, pinning her down roughly by the shoulder. Jane had let him continue for a few moments before gripping his neck, lifting him off her, then eyes black and fangs bared flipping him over, hand still vice like around his neck, lunging for his jugular.

When the man stopped twitching Jane had raised her blood soaked mouth. ‘That were a crap lay,’ she’d told him. ‘Can you do better?’ Mitchell remembered her wiggling at him invitingly. And there was the blood, he’d barely contained himself whilst the man was alive, but now he rushed to join Jane in drinking, and suddenly high on blood and lust his inhibitions had melted away.

Ninety odd years later Jane was recounting the scene to Carl. ‘When e’d fed ‘e lost his shyness and I ‘ad the best fuck I’d ever ‘ad. God, there’s not many men that can make me come like that,’ she said wistfully. ‘Definitely not a useless prick like you, not that you’d want to, useless bugger you are to me, shame as you’re not too bad on the old eyes.’ She laughed at him. ‘Do you know when we’d drank the guy dry Mitchell tore at my throat?’

‘That’s his style,’ Carl said stiffly, reminding her that he had also been Mitchell’s lover. Mitchell cringed, he hated Jane talking like this and the idea of two of his ex-lovers discussing what he was like in bed was somewhat mortifying.

‘Nobody had dared do that to me for years. I fuckin’ loved it. Blood and sex and John Mitchell. I didn’t give him back to ‘Errick for three months, we toured the European capitals, dining on an exotic mixture of courtesans and married men. Mitchell could spot them a mile off. We were the perfect partnership and ‘e knows we still are. You know we fucked and fed just a few weeks ago. ‘E never really changes.’ She dropped that piece of information in hoping to shock Carl, Mitchell allowed himself a small inward smile when Carl ignored it, because of course he already knew.

‘You just want him for yourself,’ Carl said after a pause. ‘There’s no master plan is there? You just want him to be your sidekick or boyfriend, or whatever you want to call him.’

‘Charlotte wants ‘is Bragi to do our dirty work.’

‘And you?’

‘I don’t fucking care what lover boy does. Wouldn’t mind a three way, but Mitchell’s mine. You know ‘e’s going to be a great vampire, already is, but ‘e can be one of the greatest. Side by side we can be legends that will live forever and be known everywhere. And we have fun. I give ‘im what ‘e wants. Mitchell can’t get enough, ‘e’ll never have enough.’

‘You sound mad,’ Carl said finally. ‘You know, they say after a certain length of time you become an Old One because you’re great. I think it’s because after living so long you go mad. Go mad with the endless, endless life and imagine yourself a god.’

This surprised Mitchell. He hadn’t expected Carl to speak to Jane like that.

‘Fuck you. Mitchell wants me. I know ‘e does. ‘E can say what ‘e likes but I know what ‘e wants.’

‘You don’t know him at all, do you? All those years together and you don’t have a clue who he really is. Herrick knew, deep down, he always knew. That’s why Mitchell was such a prize when he ran so wild.’

‘Herrick was a dick.’

‘Herrick was a clever man and he knew, like I know, that all Mitchell really wants is to be human. You can never give him that, Jane. And you can never completely take it from him either. He’ll die before he becomes what you want him to be, before he’s your prince.’

Jane just laughed. ‘Keep going and you might not live to find out. Now, do you mind fucking off, I ‘ave business to attend to.’

 

Mitchell watched as Jane turned and without a glance back at Carl descended the stairs on the opposite side of the deck. Mitchell let out a long breath, not realising he’d been holding it. He felt a rush of affection for Carl, who believed, really believed he could never lose all his humanity. He finished climbing the stairs.

‘Drink?’ he called to Carl, who was still staring out across the water. Mitchell smiled and held the bottle out. Carl turned and took it, letting Mitchell pull him into an embrace. ‘I’m sorry,’ Mitchell said simply. Carl nodded. No more needed to be said.

~

Mitchell and Carl were still drinking on the deck when Jane returned, this time with Charlotte in tow. There had been others milling about but they disappeared when Charlotte strode across the deck, arm in arm with Jane. Mitchell had half forgotten that she never dressed in modern clothes amongst vampires, he guessed that after so long in floor length dresses it was strange for her. She wore an Edwardian style black dress, with intricate lace work around the high collar and over that a black velvet jacket. She reminded him of the rich women he’d seen on trips to Dublin as a child, even her straight hair was pulled back into an elegant bun, which made her features seem even more severe. Jane looked odd next to her in black skinny jeans and leather jacket, her thick curls fell down her back and she grinned at Mitchell.

‘Evenin’, darlin’’, she said, twirling a curl in her fingers.

‘Good evening, Mitchell,’ Charlotte said with a false smile. ‘I’m so glad you decided to join us. Good evening, Carl, good to see you amongst us too.’ She smiled again. ‘If you’d be so kind as to give us a moment with Mr Mitchell.’

‘Of course,’ Carl replied, ever deferential to Charlotte, looking both worried for Mitchell and relieved to be out of it.

Mitchell said nothing, he could see Jane out of the corner of his eye, he hated himself a bit for noticing how tight her jeans were, wasn’t ninety years long enough to get over her physical attributes? Apparently not.

‘How’s Anders?’ Charlotte asked.

‘Why do you care?’ he replied, feeling oddly defiant tonight. He knew it was asking for trouble but the choice of venue had riled him.

‘Just politely enquiring after your life partner,’ she replied evenly. ‘The life partner who happens to be the most powerful man in London.’

‘Only in his own mind,’ Mitchell said dismissively.

‘You really believe that? Some say Bragi is a minor god in the Norse pantheon. I disagree. Those that have the power over what we hear, over our stories, our words, they control what we think. And Bragi has the power to bend mortals to his will. And perhaps not just mortals.’ She watched Mitchell carefully as he took another swig of beer and continued.

‘Your little escapade in Bristol has cost me a lot. In time, money, favours. It hasn’t been the easiest thing to cover up. Perhaps if you’d just stopped at the train, but no, you had to decimate half that facility. That’s a lot of coroners’ reports. You owe me, John Mitchell.’

‘I guess I do,’ Mitchell said finally.  He heard Jane snort, but kept his eyes on Charlotte. She had a gold broach near her throat, it was old and out of place with the outfit, he knew it was a gift from a queen of England, some said it had been Anne Boleyn’s, but he knew it had belonged to Henry VIII’s fourth wife, Anne of Cleaves. Charlotte had been one of her ladies in waiting for a time.

‘What do you want from me?’ he asked bluntly.

‘Bragi. He’s in love with you. You persuade him to help us and maybe you’ll pay back some of those favours I’ve had to call in on your behalf.’

‘No.’

‘I’m sure he’d be delighted to help. He’d be paid, obviously. I’ve heard the gods like money. He’d be doing a good turn.’

‘By covering up murder?’

‘By eliminating the need for bribery and corruption. A word in the ear and everything gets smoothed over, no more sleepless nights for the good citizens of Her Majesty’s Police Force and that lot can get back to munching on paedophiles and repeat offenders.’

‘No. Did Jane tell you what he did to her?’

‘Very powerful,’ Charlotte sounded reverential. ‘And you were unaffected. You’ve conquered a god, John Mitchell. Bring your god to me and I’ll give you anything.’

‘All I wanted was to be left alone,’ Mitchell sighed.

‘You’re part of this world, and you owe me. That was a big mess you made in Bristol.’

‘It’s not Anders’ mess, leave him out of it, please.’

Mitchell was about to speak when a man in a grey suit with blond hair ascended the stairs and nervously coughed. ‘It’s time, my lady,’ he told her. ‘They’re ready.’

‘Show time!’ Jane called, grinning. She looked more excited than usual tonight, her eyes glittered and she leaned up and kissed Mitchell on the lips. ‘It’s your time,’ she told him. She then grabbed an ornate wooden stake out of the large handbag she clutched under her arm, there were curling patterns carved into the wood which swirled when Jane began to spin the stake in her hands, it was dark with age and over a foot long, the point was deadly sharp and stained with blood. Somebody would be getting that through the heart tonight. A shiver went through him.

~

Anders watched through a gap in the cupboard by the bar. Using the company he was working for had made it extra easy to talk his way in. He guessed the vampires at the dock checking tickets were not in Mitchell’s league and if he could talk Mitchell out of blood lust he could talk a pair of heavies into letting him through. He was nervous now though, there must have been nearly a hundred of them, all seated in rows of chairs that usually seated tourists. He felt the boat start to move off and head down the river, eastwards he guessed from the directed they’d been moored in. There was a single aisle from the door to a small platform that looked like it was usually used to host the bride and groom at wedding at the front where and he nearly jumped out his skin when Jane suddenly burst out of the door, dressed in black (they all wore black, even Mitchell, so fucking clichéd, Anders thought) and twirling an old patterned stick like a baton.

‘Ladies and gentleman!’ she shouted silencing the crowd as all eyes turned to her. ‘Welcome, friends! Welcome! You are the chosen ones, you ‘ave the blood of the ancestors.’ Her voice carried across the whole room, over the sound of the boat’s engine, like an actor projecting to a theatre and all eyes were on her tiny frame with the long bouncing curls and spinning stake. When she reached the stage she hopped up deftly, still twirling the stake in her fingers and walking around the edge of the small platform as she spoke.

‘Tonight we welcome one of our own back ‘ome! Back into the fold. E’s a legend, you all know ‘is name.’ There was a cheer and the assembled vampires began to stamp on the floor in approval. Anders felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle. ‘William Herrick said ‘e ‘ad the blackest ‘eart of us all! ‘E killed ‘is maker, ‘e lived with werewolves! ‘E got an entire chapter of vampires to renounce blood, ‘e avenged our slaughtered kin in Bristol! ‘E walk into purgatory and out again! And the rumours are true, gods walk among us, incarnations of the Norse deities.’ A gasp went through the room, Anders felt his heart racing. ‘And this man, this vampire, ‘as overcome them. A god struck me down last Friday, left me writhing on the ground in agony!’ She pulled an agonised face, drawing out the drama. ‘The god of poetry used his words on me and I crumbled, I was burning in ‘ell’s fire! Me, at two hundred and fifty! But not ‘im! ‘E’s conquered the gods! I give you John Mitchell!’ She dramatically turned to the door which opened and Mitchell was pushed forward by Charlotte who then took his arm and walked with him to the stage. His face was livid, eyebrows creased in anger and fixated on Jane. ‘And our lady, our leader, the great Charlotte Campbell, who was made with the blood of the Count ‘imself, brings ‘im forth!’

Jane gave a theatrical bow to them as they mounted the stage to whoops and cheers. Charlotte smiled and let the crowd cheer for a couple of minutes, all the while surveying the room carefully. Anders watched through the crack in the cupboard door, his eyes on the three black haired vampires on the stage, Charlotte masterful, Jane gleeful and Mitchell a mixture of fury and fear. He gasped with everyone else when Jane spun around, grabbed Mitchell by the throat and held a stake to his heart.

‘E’s also a fuckin’ traitor!’ she cried as the crowd fell silent.

‘John Mitchell makes many of you afraid,’ Charlotte continued. ‘And he should. He’s a dangerous man, he’s killed many of our kind. He killed Herrick. And most of all he’s shown a dangerous ingratitude for all I have done for him.’ She looked around the room for signs of dissent, there was none.

‘I don’t care if you kill me,’ Mitchell said, his voice strained by Jane’s grip on his throat. ‘I’m ready, I’ve had enough. I won’t give you Anders.’

‘No?’ Jane whispered in his ear. ‘Then know this. When I put this through your black ‘eart, I’m gonna see ‘im, and I’m gonna tell him exactly ‘ow much of a bastard you are.’ She smiled and licked his ear lobe suggestively. ‘Ummmm, I’m gonna miss your cock the most I think,’ she smirked. Then she switched back to seriousness. ‘Did you tell ‘im about the Box Tunnel? The people at that facility? Or perhaps you was being chronological? It would take a while to get through all your achievements. Did you tell ‘im about the village in Russia? The gypsy camp in Romania? That brothel in Marseille? How young were them girls, Mitchell? And all the others… I’ll tell ‘im about them all. Then I’ll find ‘is pretty receptionist and rip ‘er lovely throat out. I’m surprised you’ve resisted ‘er this long.’

‘He won’t believe you,’ Mitchell said, having no idea if this was true. Jane ignored him and pressed the stake closer.

‘Have you ever heard from George and Nina by the way,’ she whispered in his ear as Charlotte was talking to the crowd about loyalty. ‘They have a beautiful baby. Not a werewolf either, a human. Eve they call her. Annie babysits.’

‘Leave them out of it,’ Mitchell hissed, his heart wrenched at the thought of his friends, his beloved friends. Jane must have sought them out. He struggled more against her grip, but it was hopeless.

‘Annie adores her,’ Jane continued. ‘Eve can see her you know. Annie just loves it, playing mum. It’s ideal, she doesn’t need to sleep, so she does her night feeds. Imagine how forlorn she’d be if something were to happen to them, something like me. She’d just float away, she’d be nothing, she’d fade away on the breeze, nobody to love her or even know she exists.’

Jane smiled malevolently at him and Mitchell hated her in that moment. He’d never hated her before, but he did now.

‘I will kill you one day,’ he said, struggling to get the words out. ‘One day, you’ll get yours.’

‘You’ll be the death of us all, Mitchell,’ she hissed. ‘But you’ll give us Bragi first.’

Mitchell let out an anguished cry. Anders flinched, he realised he’d been holding his breath since Jane grabbed Mitchell. He couldn’t hear what Jane had said, but he could see Mitchell’s agonised reaction, the fear in his eyes, and guessed she was threatening people he held dear. He was torn between his fear and his overwhelming desire to rescue the man he loved.

‘But,’ Charlotte continued. ‘We forgive those who repent, especially when they’re capable of great deeds. If they show their gratitude.’ She looked at the crowd, stepped down from the stage and walked half way down the aisle, stopping beside a plain looking girl with brown hair and a black trench coat on. ‘We do not forgive those who give up our friends to werewolves though.’ And with that she pulled a stake from the folds of her skirts, ornate like Jane’s, and plunged the stake into the girl’s heart. Mitchell let out an audible cry as the girl froze, her features turning grey, then cracking like dry earth before vanishing into a pile of dust and clothing. ‘Daisy Hannigan-Spiteri is avenged,’

Mitchell’s world was spinning, Daisy was dead? At the hands of a werewolf? His mind was suddenly full of prophecies again, wolf shaped bullets, and Lia, and Herrick’s mangled body on the floor of the isolation room. He had tears in his eyes from the pain of Jane’s grip on his throat. He wanted to scream that he’d rather die than give them Anders, but he couldn’t risk Jane’s threats being real. She’d never really hurt him in all these years, not properly, but he believed her capable. She had no empathy for any of her victims, ever. She was utterly hedonistic and her wants were all that she cared about.

Then there was a cough from the back of the room, the sound of a door opening and everyone turned to look. Then a familiar Kiwi accent announced, ‘sorry, I’m late to the party.’

~

It was the hissing Anders noticed first then he was blinking in the sudden light as the door opened. He heard Mitchell calling to leave him alone, as if he were in danger, but it all seemed so unreal Anders felt as if he was in a dream.

‘Evening,’ he shrugged, running his hands through his hair. ‘I would’ve had a seat but they were all taken. Hey, Jane!’ he called waving at Jane who was still standing with Mitchell on the stage, her grip slackened in surprise. Anders felt his heart racing, he was terrified, but felt the best chance of hiding his fear was to keep talking. ‘You know we’ll never get a threesome if you stake him!’

Anders mouth went dry then as Charlotte turned to him and began to walk towards him, her eyes black.

‘How dare you,’ she muttered.

Anders heard Mitchell cry out and saw Charlotte bare her fangs at him. ‘Whoa,’ Anders said, forgetting to summon Bragi, she moved closer, a hiss leaving her mouth. ‘ _Back off,’_ he finally managed. Charlotte immediately threw her hands in front of her face, flinching. The other vampires who were closer threw themselves away from him, hands raised.

‘ _Oh this is cool’_ Anders continued in Bragi’s voice, finding the effect amusing, even in the midst of his terror. ‘ _Back off you freaks, and stop wearing so much fucking black, you’re one step away from red lined cloaks here. That’s it,’_ he said as they pushed each other and fell over chairs in a bid to scramble away from him, it was as if Anders was red hot and they were being burnt by him. Some began to scream. Jane was now covering her face with her hands and cowering behind Mitchell, holding onto his jacket. The stake she had been holding rolled to the floor and under the small platform they were standing on.

‘Anders,’ Mitchell cried, massaging his neck. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ He sounded angry, but it was fear that drove his anger. Anders in a room full of vampires was one of his worst nightmares.

‘I wasn’t leaving you alone with this lot,’ he replied, before adding, ‘ _back off freaks,’_ in Bragi’s voice. ‘And I was right, they were going to kill you.’

‘I’m fine, nobody’s killing anyone, it’s all sorted. Oh get off,’ he snapped at Jane who was tugging his jacket.

Anders walked towards Mitchell, the vampires parting for him. He stopped by the edge of the stage and Mitchell jumped down, touched his arm briefly and gave him a small smile of gratitude. Then Charlotte spoke.

‘Behold the god,’ she said, her voice clear. Anders tensed. She has been less affected than the others. ‘Bragi walks amongst us, uses his power of speech against us. And John Mitchell alone is unaffected.’ Charlotte held her arms out towards Mitchell.

‘John Mitchell!’ Jane shouted, grabbing Mitchell’s hand and raising it in the air. ‘This man is one of ours, one of our finest! And e’s come ‘ome to us tonight.’

She gave Mitchell a hard stare, daring him to contradict her. But it was Anders who spoke.

‘So, you want me?’ he said, addressing Charlotte and Jane. ‘That can be arranged, for a fee. My assistant usually deals with the fee structures, but in this case we’ll leave her out of it. I’m very fond of her and if one hair on her head was harmed I’d talk and talk until you were all burning in hell.’

Mitchell held his breath, he’d never seen anything like this before. Anders sounded strong and certain. There was no game, no hedging his bets.

‘I usually like to discuss these things over a drink, maybe a meal. I suggest we find a nice place tomorrow lunch time and you can tell me where the bodies are buried and what it’s worth to you for it all to be… smoothed over.’

‘No, Anders,’ Mitchell said, his eyes wide with horror at what Anders was proposing to do. ‘You have no idea what they’ll ask.’

‘I have a fair idea,’ Anders lied. He could feel cold sweat dripping down his back and Mitchell’s desperate look was worrying him.

‘And so the god is on our side,’ Charlotte announced. ‘I don’t think you’ll need that stake after all, Jane.’

‘The god is going to be well paid,’ Anders corrected. ‘Hey, do you mind if I have a quick word with this lot, there’s a lot of people here, I wouldn’t want word getting out?’ He didn’t wait for answer but addressed the crowd instead. ‘ _Hey, everyone! Vampire freaks! Not you two_ ,’ he said aside to Mitchell and Jane who stood behind him now. ‘ _Children of the night, listen up, you will forget this entire conversation, ok? You will just remember me as Mitchell’s incredibly good looking boyfriend. Now we’re going to get a drink, so when I leave the room you listen to Downton Abbey lady here,_ ’ he nodded at Charlotte to Mitchell’s gasp. ‘ _And forget all of this. Now raise your hand if you got that.’_

Everyone in the room raised their hand. Anders laughed to himself, especially when he spotted Carl in the middle of the third row. ‘Cool,’ he said, pleased with the extent of his powers.

Mitchell grabbed his arm. ‘Come on,’ he said in a low voice.

‘Where we gonna go, John?’ Anders asked. ‘We’re in the middle of the Thames.’

Mitchell sighed, looking out the window and seeing the Millennium Dome coming into view on the right. Jane the only one on the stage now, she had composed herself again quickly and now cleared her throat, ready to address the room.

‘And that brings business to a conclusion,’ Jane announced, her voice again carrying over the din of chatter that had broken out. ‘A round of applause for our friend, Mitchell.’

The room burst into applause which quickly died out. ‘And now,’ Jane said. ‘Time to make the most of the free bar.’ She spread her arms and smiled, the assembled vampires took this as a sign the meeting was over and relieved chatter broke out amongst them as people stood and starting making their way towards the bar and deck, not bothering to hide their stares at Anders. Only when most people were safely engaged in the pressing business of getting a drink did Mitchell turn to Anders.

‘Have you any idea what you’ve done?’ he said quietly, his eyes full of unshed tears.

‘I’ve saved your life,’ Anders said.

‘You have no idea what they’ll do to yours,’ Mitchell replied quietly. ‘I can’t let you do this, not for me.’

Anders looked at Mitchell and touched his arm, running his hand up and down Mitchell’s biceps, it was the most intimate gesture they ever made in a public place. ‘You think this is some kind of altruism?’ he asked. ‘I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for me. This is about me.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist inserting the image of Mitchell in a towel. If you need a visual reference for this I suggest watching Aidan Turner in And Then There Were None.


	11. You are a genius, Anders Johnson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How will Mitchell and Anders deal with the aftermath? Is Bragi as clever as he thinks he is?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Lancette as usual for her guidance, always noted and appreciated.
> 
> Also gets rather, er, passionate at the beginning, I don't know what came over me!

_‘But that’s how religions and histories make their way into the world, not through battles and conquests, but through poems and kennings and songs…_

_After all, words are what remain when the deeds have been done. Words can shatter faith; start a war; change the course of history. A story can make your heart beat faster; topple walls; scale mountains – hey, a story can even raise the dead. And that’s why the King of Stories ended up being the King of the gods; because writing history and making history are only the breadth of a page apart.’_

_The Gospel of Loki, Joanne M. Harris_

 

Anders and Mitchell had left as soon as the boat had moored, Mitchell pushing past everyone angrily and waving the first taxi he saw. They’d not spoken in the cab, except for Mitchell to say they needed to go back to his this time, feeling Carl deserved an explanation for the incident on the boat sooner rather than later. Mitchell had held the door for Anders as he paid the fare and let him go first into the flat. He panted as he kicked the door of the flat shut, a predatory smile on his face as it slammed hard and Anders shrugged his coat off.

‘Not here,’ Mitchell said, his eyes fixed on Anders. ‘Carl will be back soon.’

‘Here?’ Anders asked, not sure what he meant.

‘Not fuckin’ here,’ Mitchell growled, his accent thickening as he pulled his coat off and took two long strides towards Anders. ‘I’m gonna fuckin’ have you so hard you’ll wish you never opened that fuckin’ mouth of yours,’ he warned before pulling Anders into a rough kiss.

If Anders was surprised by this unexpected reaction he didn’t show it. He allowed himself to be hauled by the shirt front along the hall way, didn’t protest when Mitchell pulled his shirt open, breaking the buttons so his long fingers could roam Anders’ chest. Then he was flung onto the bed and ordered to ‘get naked’.

Anders laughed at this. ‘You think this is funny?’ Mitchell asked, pulling his own shirt off and shrugging out his jeans.

‘Am I your prey?’ Anders asked, a smile on his lips as he slowly, much more slowly than he knew Mitchell wanted, undressed.

‘You’re mine, that’s what you are,’ Mitchell said, his voice dangerous and his eyes black. ‘You’re a fuckin’ fool, but you’re mine and I’m going to fuck you.’

‘You like fucking a god, don’t you?’ Anders said, loving the game, loving the edge Mitchell was on. He knew it was the danger; Bragi was there, right at the front of things, loving this. This was living, when you could die at any moment, that was when you really lived.

Mitchell stepped out of his boxers and knelt on the bed, looming over Anders.

‘You’re too fuckin’ slow getting undressed,’ he said, reaching for Anders’ hair and pulling his head towards his cock. ‘Suck,’ he ordered, black eyes boring into Anders, daring him to disobey. Anders smirked, Mitchell was rock hard and clearly desperate. He let out a feigned sigh and bent his head down, letting is tongue dart out and lick teasingly as Mitchell let out a stream of expletives, before taking him in his mouth properly.

Mitchell groaned as Anders sucked, his hands fisted in short blond curls, trying not to thrust too much when Anders’ hands went to work on his balls and teased his hole. It was good, too good and he didn’t want to come like that. He pulled Anders off and cupped his face, grinning greedily at his wet mouth and chin.

‘Not yet,’ Mitchell whispered. Anders smiled, less cocky this time, but pleased that whatever he had feared would happen when they got home seemed to have been abandoned in favour of sex. Mitchell pulled Anders up and kissed him hard, his tongue pushing into his mouth, claiming him. Anders let it all happen, happy to surrender to him, to let Mitchell take control and make the decisions. There was a sort of peace in this he rarely felt, especially now Bragi was so much stronger, he didn’t have to think about anything because Mitchell would take care of them both, Mitchell would make sure he came and make it so damn good. If Anders ever thought about why he was so happy to surrender this was as far as it went and all thought stopped entirely when Mitchell turned him around and pushed him forward and buried his tongue between his buttocks, licking and kissing his hole until Anders bucked beneath him and his moans turned to screams.

The squirming under sheer pleasure had earnt Anders ropes around his wrists, the thought that Mitchell must have had a hell of a lot of practice at tying knots to be so efficient was quickly pushed aside as Mitchell’s tongue was replaced by fingers, cool and wet with lube, making him shudder, then ache for more.

He wouldn’t beg, Anders told himself he wouldn’t. But as Mitchell’s fingers continued to work, teasing and never quite giving enough, as his mouth sucked and nipped at his nipples, and black, black eyes held his gaze Anders started to crack.

‘C’mom,’ Mitchell growled, his accent thick and voice full of want. ‘You know what I want to hear, darlin’.’

Anders didn’t trust himself to speak. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to squeal when Mitchell began to rub his prostate. He didn’t succeed. Mitchell carried on until Anders’ back arched off the bed and he was almost screaming.

‘Baby,’ he said, kissing Anders’ neck, letting him feel the sharp edge of his fangs on his jaw. ‘Baby, you know what you need, you need my cock filling you.’

Anders said nothing, just panted and turned his head aside to wipe the sweat from his brow on the pillow. Mitchell was lying over him now, his long hair tickling his face, a picture of dark, masculine hair and muscle. Mitchell leaned forward and licked a stripe up Anders’ chest to his throat.

‘Do you want to come?’ Mitchell asked. Anders nodded.

‘Fuck, yeah.’

‘You want to come with my cock inside you?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Then use your pretty voice to ask nicely. You’re so good with words, but you’re a stubborn bastard.’ He twisted his fingers over Anders’ prostate again making him cry out. ‘You need more than my fingers, don’t you, baby?’

Anders opened his eyes and looked up at Mitchell, it was too intense, too much, the want, the warm heat in his chest that tightened when he looked at him. The feeling that he could never ever let this man go, that nothing he did, no horror that was uncovered, would stop Anders wanting him. Was that was love was? Anders could find words to talk about anything but not this.

‘Ask nicely,’ Mitchell said again, bending down to suck the weeping head of Anders’ cock into his mouth this time. As Mitchell laved his tongue over the slit Anders caved in, crying out.

‘Please, please fuck me, please, John.’

Mitchell lifted his head up with a wicked laugh. ‘I love it when you beg,’ he whispered before hauling Anders’ legs over his shoulders and sliding into him in one long thrust.

Anders didn’t care anymore. It was hot and hard and he bucked back and demanded more and Mitchell called him a greedy fucker as he gave him more, grabbed his hair and kissed him, stroked his cock until he split loud and messy between their bodies and when Mitchell came he bit down on Anders’ shoulder, but his fangs were retracted and Anders was left with nothing more than the faint mark of his incisors.

After he came the devil seemed to go out of Mitchell. He pulled out, too sensitive to stay inside Anders’ warmth and wrapped himself around his lover panting and kissing everywhere his mouth could reach. He hurriedly untied him and kissed his wrists.

‘Are you ok, baby?’ he asked softly.

‘I’m fucked,’ Anders said softly, a smile in his voice.

‘You were so good, I love you so much,’ Mitchell whispered. Anders smiled and kissed him for a long time, stroking Mitchell’s wild curls back from his face.

‘I didn’t quite expect that,’ Anders said when he pulled away and they lay in each other’s arms, foreheads touching.

‘Let’s not think now,’ Mitchell whispered.

‘You know, I fucking love you for that,’ Anders breathed, barely audible, but Mitchell allowed himself a small smile nonetheless.

~

Anders sighed as Mitchell turned his back on him and put the volume on the TV up.

 _‘Coming up we have a roundup of all the soaps and make up tips with our experts, stay tuned after the break,_ ’ the chirpy TV host said, now at a volume the neighbours could probably hear. The breakfast show jingle played and then an ad for toothpaste started.

 

‘Are you going to keep this up all day?’ Anders asked sitting next to Mitchell, who folded his arms.

 

‘What?’

 

‘Ignoring me.’

 

‘I’m ignoring you because you’re a fucking idiot.’

 

‘You didn’t ignore me last night,’ Anders said, nudging Mitchell’s thigh with his knee.

 

‘Last night I had to fuck you or kill you.’ Mitchell turned back to the TV.

 

‘Charming. Look, I saved your skin in there.’ Anders folded his arms now, resentful, before picking up the remote and turning the TV off, forcing Mitchell to acknowledge him properly.

 

‘Which is exactly what I asked you not to do! You have no idea…’ Mitchell fumed. ‘And now you’re going to meet them for lunch, like you’re all normal people, having a normal meeting. Not a fucking idiot god and two psychotic vampires.’

 

‘If they’re so psychotic how come you’re so well acquainted?’

 

‘I’ve made a lot of mistakes and Jane Adams is one of the biggest. Trust me.’

 

‘What did she say to you? When she was talking to you?’

 

Anders pulled Mitchell round to face him. Mitchell cringed, rubbed his forehead and sighed. ‘She was threatening me, the people I care about.’

 

‘Me?’

 

‘Kind of. Anders, you have to send Dawn home. She threatened Dawn.’ Mitchell looked at Anders, nervous and guilty.

 

Anders swallowed. ‘Dawn?’

 

‘Yeah, I’m so sorry. I told you she was insane. You need to buy Dawn a ticket to Auckland and pack her off on the next plane, use Bragi, anything, just get her to safety.’

 

Anders nodded. ‘Bloody hell. Dawn… Jesus, Ty’s going to kill us.’

 

‘As long as she’s ok… we’ll deal with Ty. I’m sorry.’

 

‘And I’m going to be short of a receptionist.’ Anders voice rose an octave and he let out a huff.

 

‘Personal assistant.’

 

‘Whatever, what the fuck… fuck, John, she does all the work!’ he cried.

 

‘Finally you’ve noticed,’ Mitchell muttered. ‘Deal with it, just get her on a plane.’

 

‘This is your fault.’

 

‘I know, believe me, I know.’

 

‘What did she say about me?’

 

‘She said when I’m dead she’d tell you all the awful things I’d done so you’d hate me.’ Mitchell was working hard at keeping his voice even.

 

‘Well, that’s bollocks,’ Anders snorted, ‘If she killed you I’d talk and talk until she fried, she wouldn’t be able to say her own name. And I don’t care anyway,’ he added. Mitchell gave a thin smile.

 

‘You would if you knew. I’m so sorry. Look, you need to talk to Dawn, there’s some other stuff I need to do.’

 

‘What? I’m going to meet them, they don’t frighten me,’ he lied. ‘I can lay them out with a few little words, even the old girl. Look, how bad can it be, I’m not killing anyone, I’m stopping actually the existence of vampires being revealed, and if vampires are discovered gods could be next.’

 

‘I’m not stopping you,’ Mitchell said shortly. ‘I have other stuff to do. You can handle them better than most and if they’re with you they’re not doing…other things.’

 

‘Fine, keep your secrets,’ Anders said with a huff. Mitchell sighed.

 

‘I have to get a message to the people I lived with in Barry, to Annie. She threatened them.’

 

‘The ghost? How can they hurt someone who’s dead already?’

 

‘They can hurt George and Nina, and the baby, they can burn her house down and take everything that anchors her away until she fades and blows away on the wind.’ Mitchell’s voice was cracking now.

 

‘And Jane thinks you care enough about Annie for this to be a threat?’ Anders tried to sound casual, and if Mitchell had been less upset he’d have picked up on the anxiety in his voice.

 

‘Not just Annie, George, even Nina too. They were the best friends I ever had.’

 

‘So you’re going to Barry?’

 

‘No, they won’t go anywhere near me, they hate me. I have a friend who I can ask.’

 

‘Carl?’

 

‘Not Carl, the house will be covered in crosses and dowsed in fucking holy water, it can’t be a vampire. This ghost I know.’

 

‘A ghost you know? Just a ghost I know, ha, know any wizards too? Well, I need to get going. I’ll let you know how much they pay me, you could even get a slice of commission,’ he joked.  Mitchell scowled.

 

‘Is that why you’re doing this? The money?’

 

‘I told you, I’m doing this for me.’

 

‘Oh the fucking power play, playing god…’ Mitchell almost spat it out. Anders grabbed him by the wrist, pulled him close, his face hardened in a rare show of temper.

 

‘You fucking c…. you think that? Fuck you then! Fuck you!’

 

‘What then? What?’

 

‘I’m doing it so I don’t lose you,’ Anders shouted, shoving him in the chest. ‘I don’t fucking care what they ask me to do, what they tell me about you. I just don’t want to lose you. I want you here, alive.’

 

‘Why?’ Mitchell blurted, his face a mix of incomprehension and surprise.

 

‘Why? Why do you think? I bloody love you, you stupid fucking idiot.’ Anders shoved him hard in the chest again, making him fall back into the cushions. ‘Is part of being a vampire being incredibly fucking thick?’

 

Mitchell looked at Anders and shook his head, grabbing Anders and holding him in a crushing hug.

 

‘Owwww, you’re crushing my balls!’ Anders cried as Mitchell fell on top of him, pushing him back on the sofa. Mitchell laughed and eased off a little. ‘Always the melodrama, Jesus, it’s not Transylvania, stiff upper lip!’

 

‘Fuck you,’ Mitchell mumbled, laughing a little, into his shoulder, still holding him tight.

 

~

The rain hit the window with a constant irregular tapping. Anders watched as the water drops flowed together to form little streams, running into one another and following them until they ran onto the window ledge and out of sight. Everything beyond the window was grey; the sky, the river, the pavements. He pressed his fingers together carefully and thought of his lunch meeting with Charlotte.

It was very business-like, very professional, Jane had been there, dressed quite respectably, but for once not said much. Charlotte gave him a list of people, said they required talking to from time to time. Police officers’ coroners, paramedics, doctors. Basically anyone who came across the results of vampire activity and was starting to ask awkward questions. Charlotte explained that vampires would feed regardless, but this way there would be no blood shed covering up for their activities and no exposure of the supernatural world. She had then offered him a fee far in excess of what he would normally charge for any kind of work. Then she had mentioned clearing up Mitchell’s mess in Bristol, how he wouldn’t want to be arrested – again.

Anders knew it was foolish, he knew he shouldn’t have done it. Mitchell’s crimes were numerous and gruesome and he didn’t really want to know. But curiosity got the better of him and after they’d left he’d sat at the table in the restaurant searching for murders in Bristol on his phone, multiple murders, and it didn’t take long for the same thing to come up again and again.

The unsolved murder of twenty passengers on a train in the Box Tunnel. Anders felt sick thinking about the pictures of the train he’d seen online. Blood splattered on the windows. The faces of the dead, their grieving relatives. And he knew, he knew without having to ask that this was what Mitchell had ran from, that this was what his friends could not forgive. But he didn’t feel as sick at that as at the thought Mitchell didn’t really love him, that Mitchell would leave him and go back to Annie.

He could hardly comprehend that the same man he knew and loved could do such a thing. Yet Anders didn’t know if he was more worried by the fact that Mitchell was responsible for this atrocity or that he didn’t care that he was. Anders knew that he was selfish, he knew he didn’t have strong morals, but even he was concerned by how easily he could push Mitchell’s crimes aside. Maybe it was Bragi he reasoned. The gods were bloody and brutal, they were used to carnage, gloried in it. Anders hated blood, especially since Helen had been killed in front of him. And that was the only thing that bothered him, the blood. As long as he didn’t have to look at the pictures, see the blood, think about the blood, he knew he’d be fine.

He thought again about the money Charlotte had given him. Ten thousand pounds in cash and another fifty thousand deposited in the company account. And that was just for starters. It looked like Charlotte had been truthful when she said she had made wise investments in her long life and was happy to pay any fee necessary to get him on board. Not bad for work that he intended to be entirely temporary, whatever Charlotte might want.

His reverie was disturbed by Dawn clearing her throat.

‘Anders? Can I have a word?’ she asked.

‘Sure,’ he said, not turning his chair around, continuing to watch the rain. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘I just had a call from our accountants.’

‘I thought you might,’ he said lightly.

‘Yes, and it confirmed something I’ve been piecing together for a while.’

‘Really?’ he spun round to face her. Now she had his attention.

‘The payment this morning, the fifty thousand pounds. Do you know the person who made it?’

‘I had lunch with her.’

‘A her? Interesting. Was _she_ Arch Investments?’

‘Who?’

‘Arch Investments, only one listed owner, C. Campbell.’

‘Ah, yes.’

‘So they actually exist. Well, that’s good. Did you know they own all but one of our current corporate clients?’

‘Go on.’

‘The boat company, the boutique, the mineral water people, the production company, the Thai restaurant, the hotel chain, the coach company, the sightseeing people. All owned by C. Campbell Investments. Anders, how well do you know these people?’

‘Not as well as they know me,’ he said softly, slightly stunned by the revelation. They must have known about him from the minute he met Mitchell. ‘I didn’t know they owned everything.’

‘I’ve been trying to find out more about them, about who owns them and nothing. Whoever the owner is they are very shy indeed.’

‘Dawn,’ Anders said sharply. ‘You are to stop investigating them immediately.’

‘What’s going on?’ she asked, worried and suspicious.

‘ _Dawn, you will forget all about this conversation and Arch Investments. You will not try and find out any more about them, is that clear?’_  Bragi said. Dawn nodded and Anders let out a sigh of relief. He opened the drawer and pulled out the print out of the Air New Zealand flight from Heathrow tomorrow morning. He was surprised how much it upset him, he would miss her terribly.

‘Ok, is there anything else you need doing?’ Dawn asked pleasantly.

‘ _Dawn, you’ve done an amazing job setting up JPR over here, but I think we both know the time’s coming when we need to go home, back to New Zealand. I need you to go back to Auckland, Ty will join you, I’ll speak to him, don’t worry about that. You can stay in my apartment until you find somewhere. I want you to set up JPR back in Auckland.’_

‘Sure,’ Dawn said looking a little dazed. ‘Will you be coming?’

‘ _I’ll be coming as soon as I’ve taken care of business here, so will John, but you keep that a secret, even from Ty for now. You’ll be so pleased to be home Dawn, away from the rain and near your mum and friends.’_

‘I have friends here too.’

_‘Of course you do, but listen Dawn, you forget them, better if people don’t follow you. Me and John will be there soon and he’s your friend.’_

Dawn nodded. ‘John’s great, such a nice guy.’

‘Yes, he is. _Now, you go home now and pack, then on the plane do a list of all the things you do that I need to remember while you’re gone and send it to John.’_ The plan was forming in Anders’ mind even as he spoke. A few weeks, that’s all he’d need. A bit of time and a lot of money, the latter was certainly not going to be a problem now.

‘Ok.’

‘ _Here’s the ticket._ ’ He handed her the sheet of paper with the print out on it. ‘ _And Dawn, remember you’re an amazing assistant, I value your work so much and thank you. You may go now.’_

Dawn nodded and smiled before leaving the room. Anders collapsed in his chair, considering the irony that the first time he’d used his powers for her sake not his was the first time he’d felt really guilty about doing so.

Anders sighed. The last few days had been a fucking nightmare, he was starting to remember why he hated relationships. The whole thing was a mess, his boyfriend was mixed up with a bunch of mad vampires who had infiltrated all his business dealings, he’d lost Dawn, he’d ended up in a committed relationship with an emotional wreck who was liable to kill someone or himself at any moment. And he’d promised to help said bunch of vampires cover up their killings. Anders had more commitments in the past six weeks than in the rest of his life put together. And he didn’t like it one bit.

He should jump on the next plane home, he knew it would be best for him if he did that. But he wouldn’t and he knew the reason was that no matter how much he hated the responsibility he hated the thought he wouldn’t have John Mitchell far more.

‘Fucking idiot,’ he muttered to himself, conceding at last that he really must be head over heels in love.

 

~

Mitchell was asleep when Anders got back to Carl’s place, his heart heavy and his head aching, particularly after a shouty phone call from Ty, in which he was roundly, and Anders felt undeservedly, abused. It wasn’t his fault vampires wanted him to work for them, it wasn’t his fault they’d threatened Dawn. It wasn’t even his fault he had an uncontrollable attraction to Mitchell and that association had led to all this on the grounds he had, very reluctantly and against his better judgement and best efforts, fallen in love with the bloody man.

 

And that bloody man was lying on the sofa, his pale face at peace for once. Anders knelt beside him and watched him for a few moments, the way his lips were slightly pouted, the way his dark hair fell across his face. He stroked a stray strand back from his cheek and gently kissed his forehead. Mitchell didn’t even stir. Anders guessed he’d probably hardly slept the night before.

 

‘You’ve caused me a lot of trouble,’ Anders sighed, his voice barely a whisper. ‘You’d better be bloody grateful,’ he added, kissing his forehead again before dumping his stuff and going to get a drink.

 

When he returned with a bottle of beer he was shocked to see an elderly man shaking Mitchell awake. ‘Wake up,’ the man said in a clear, well-spoken voice. He sounded old fashioned, like people who read the news on black and white TV clips. ‘Mr Mitchell, wake up!’

 

‘Who the hell are you?’ Anders cried out, he’d been jumpy for days, ever since Mitchell and Jane’s violent confrontation outside the club the other night.

 

‘Ah, you must be the god.’ The man was smartly dressed in a brown suit, white shirt and brown tie, he had a checked brown and green pull over on over his shirt and looked like someone’s grandad. His thick rimmed glasses made his dark eyes look bigger than they were, he had dark brown skin and his hair was short tight curls, with more grey than black, especially at the temples. ‘As rude as I’d expect your heathen kind to be.’

 

‘Oh, hello,’ Mitchell yawned, slowly stretching and sitting up, he smiled at Anders then saw the other man and seemed to snap to attention.

 

‘You were fast asleep,’ the man said disapprovingly.

 

‘Sorry,’ Mitchell said. ‘Did you find them? What did they say?’

 

‘John, who is this?’ Anders interjected.

 

‘Sorry, this is Mr Winston, we’ve known each other for years. Mr Winston, this is Anders, my partner.’

 

The man scowled disapprovingly at Anders. ‘Such a sweet girl, that Annie, oh, Mr Mitchell.’ He shook his head and then ignored Anders. ‘They were there and I spoke with them.’

 

‘And?’

 

‘They’ve already left.’

 

Mitchell breathed out a sigh of relief. ‘Thank God,’ he muttered. ‘How were they?’

 

‘Angry, upset, scared. As you’d expect.’

 

‘Did you tell them I was sorry?’

 

‘Yes.’

 

‘And what did they say?’

 

‘Nina said you’re always sorry and it’s always too late. They were upset as I said.’

 

‘And Annie?’

 

‘She’s not over you. I told her you were a no good sinner, but I can tell.’

 

Mitchell nodded and reached for his cigarettes. Anders sat down next to him and looked at the two men.

 

‘Anyone going to enlighten me what’s going on?’ he said irritably.

 

‘Mr Winston is a ghost –‘

 

‘I died in 1958,’ he interjected. ‘Poisoned at my desk, my wicked step son, he never hanged you know, too soft that judge.’

 

‘Wow, that sucks,’ Anders said, raising his eyebrows.

 

‘Anyway,’ Mitchell continued. ‘He went to see George, Annie and Nina for me, to warn them Jane had threatened them.’

 

‘I see. Good plan,’ Anders said, not really feeling that it was. He knew he was resentful of the fact these people, who he’d never met and never would meet, still meant so much to Mitchell. Who were they to consider themselves too good for Mitchell’s company, Anders thought. And why did Mitchell still give a damn about them when he had an actual god?

 

‘Mr Mitchell, they asked me to make it clear that whilst they are grateful for the warning you are never to contact them again, and Nina requested you don’t talk about them again in case people connect you.’

 

Mitchell bowed his head, nodding. ‘Did Annie say anything else?’

 

‘She didn’t, she was very worried about the child.’

 

‘Of course,’ Mitchell said. Anders put his hand on Mitchell’s knee and noticed Mr Winston’s lips thin. Anders wanted to hold Mitchell, tell him it didn’t matter what some stupid ghost thought as he was here and real, alive and a god. But he didn’t.

 

‘Thank you,’ Mitchell said, standing up and shaking Mr Winston’s hand. ‘I really appreciate it. If there’s anything I can do.’

 

‘Just keep those wicked women away from me, that Charlotte Campbell is the devil, I’ve warned you often enough. You must resist the sins of the flesh, Mr Mitchell.’ He gave Mitchell a hard look and glanced at Anders. ‘Always your weakness, that was another reason Annie was so good for you.’

 

‘Right,’ Mitchell said, awkwardly.

 

‘A good girl. And you,’ he said turning to Anders. ‘Remember, the devil takes many forms, he tempts us with what we desire; money, flesh! They are devils. I have seen what they can do. They are devils.’

 

‘Mitchell’s a vampire too though,’ Anders said.

 

‘Mr Mitchell is indeed a vampire, but he, unlike them, has a conscience. Oh, if only you’d stayed with that lovely girl,’ he said turning to Mitchell. ‘Josie was a beauty, and a good girl too.’

 

‘I had to let her go,’ Mitchell said softly. ‘She deserved more than I could give her.’ Anders frowned at this, he’d not heard of this Josie, but she suddenly sounded like she’d been important.

 

Mr Winston nodded in response and shook Mitchell’s hand. ‘I will see myself out, there’s trouble at the hospital. A new ghost has moved in, going through the place opening every door. I’m going to see if I can sort it out before the nurses call in a priest,’ he said, before vanishing into thin air. Anders looked up at Mitchell, leaning back on the settee.

 

‘You have some weird friends,’ Anders observed.

 

‘He’s a decent guy, just old fashioned. Anyway, he’s done me a huge favour. I’ve been worried sick about them.’

 

‘Who?’

 

‘George, Annie, Nina, the baby. Jane knew the baby’s name.’

 

‘Shit, well sounds like all’s ok now,’ he said brightly. ‘And as I’m doing what they want, there’s no need to worry anyway.’

 

‘How was your day?’ Mitchell asked tentatively.

 

‘Pretty shit to be honest, but I’m a lot richer now than I was this morning.’

 

‘Meeting went well?’

 

‘Very straight forward, it’s piss easy what they want. And your dear Jane kept her gob shut for once, I don’t mind her when I can’t hear her awful cockney screeching.’

 

‘I’m going to kill her,’ Mitchell muttered darkly.

 

‘You tried that once before and she beat the crap out of you. Anyway, you leave Little Miss No-knickers to me. Oh, and Dawn found out all of the businesses we’ve got in board since April are owned by the same company. Arch Investments, one owner, a certain C. Campbell.’

 

‘What?’

 

‘She’s been fucking stalking me for months, ever since we first hooked up. Dawn’s flight is tomorrow morning at 6am by the way.’ Anders swallowed, he’d actually found saying goodbye to her more difficult than he’d imagined. ‘Ty went fucking mental too, thank fuck I phoned him or I think he’d have punched me. I told him it was more your fault than mine, but he blames me.’

 

‘Shit, I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say.’ Mitchell put his arm around Anders. ‘I’m nothing but trouble for you, you’d be better off without me.’

 

‘What so you can go back to fucking Annie?’ Anders snapped. ‘Or Josie?’

 

‘Josie’s dead! Jesus, Anders!’ Mitchell cried, running a hand through her hair, half tugging it in exasperation.

 

‘Didn’t stop you fucking Annie,’ Anders retorted, shrugging Mitchell’s arm off him.

 

‘It did actually.’

 

‘What?’

 

‘You can’t screw with a ghost, Anders.’

 

Anders let out a bark of laughter. ‘So you went out with a ghost you couldn’t screw?’

 

‘It wasn’t about screwing, Anders. It was more than that, deeper.’

 

‘So you don’t like screwing now? I fucking know you, I know you _love_ screwing. You… you know what you like to do and you like to do it a lot.’

 

‘It was a different kind of relationship,’ Mitchell snapped.

 

‘So what am I? Just the shallow fuck?’

 

‘Don’t be a prick. There’s more to us than sex.’

 

‘Yeah, you’re obsessed with me,’ Anders said cockily. ‘You’re obsessed with my cock actually. I just don’t see how you could have been with someone and not screw. Did she wank you off?’

 

‘No! Anders, for fuck’s sake. We kissed ok, we kissed.’

 

‘So the old man there can shake you awake, but she couldn’t wank you off. You know what I think? Lesbo. One hundred percent dyke.’

 

‘Don’t be such a dick,’ Mitchell said, stubbing his cigarette out and shaking his head.

 

Anders ignored him and carried on. Fuck Mitchell, if he was going to spend his time worrying about a dead woman when Anders had just given up his whole life for him. ‘Or maybe you’re not into girls as much as you claim to be.’

 

‘Just drop it,’ Mitchell warned.

 

‘Jane looked hot by the way. See I know you liked screwing her because you get that look in your eyes when you see her.’

 

‘What look?’ Mitchell said, outraged. He stood up and started going through his jacket for a new packet of cigarettes, throwing the empty packet on the floor in frustration.

 

‘The look you give me just before I suck your dick.’

 

‘Oh fuck off.’ He pulled the new packet out of his jacket and Anders watched him in stoney silence as he unwrapped it, inhaled the scent of fresh tobacco before lighting up. ‘Why are we even having this conversation?’ Mitchell asked as he exhaled. He sat next to Anders and put his arm around him, kissed his temple. ‘I’m sorry about Dawn.’

 

‘Don’t be, we’re going back too.’

 

‘What?’

 

‘That’s my plan,’ Anders said, glad to change the subject onto his plan, which he thought was rather clever. ‘In a few weeks we’ll go to New Zealand. You need a fake passport, but should be easy enough and you’ll be fine in airports with me by your side. I’ll just talk the vampires into forgetting I exist. I mean, you can go ages between me speaking to you now, I’m getting stronger.’

 

‘Only a couple of weeks. New Zealand?’

 

‘Yeah, you’ll love it, you and Dawn can snog or whatever you do that makes her love you so much, and weather’s nice, I know sun isn’t your thing, but you know, you’ll like it. You can meet the family, make the goddess slags jealous of me.’ He sniggered thinking of Michele.

 

‘And you’d do that, for me? Give up everything you’ve built here?’

 

‘Mitchell, today I found out what you did in Bristol. Charlotte told me there were people I needed to talk to, to make sure you didn’t get arrested again. Something about the investigation being reopened.’ Anders watched as what little colour there was drained from Mitchell’s face. ‘And I googled it when they were gone. And do you know what?’

 

Mitchell said nothing, Anders thought he looked like he was going to be sick.

 

‘I realised that I what was really making me feel sick was the thought of losing you, not what you’d done. God, I sound like an episode of fucking Neighbours. Anyway, I realised I’m a selfish bastard with very few morals, typical god really, and I didn’t care what you’d done as long as I can have you. Can you stop looking at me like that?’

 

‘I’m sorry,’ Mitchell mouthed, tears starting to fall down his face.

 

‘I know you are,’ Anders shrugged. ‘Is that what Annie and George found out about?’

 

‘Yes, well, George always knew, he knew and pretended he didn’t, but Annie and Nina, yeah…’

 

‘George loved you more,’ Anders said simply. ‘Enough to ignore what you are because he needed you.’

 

‘That’s sort of what he said,’ Mitchell sniffed, wiping at his tears.

 

‘Are you sure you two weren’t screwing?’

 

Mitchell laughed softly and nudged Anders with his arm.

 

‘Oh I forgot, no sex allowed in Bristol. Frigid fucking weirdos.’ Mitchell then knocked him backwards as he threw his arms around him tightly for a second time that day. ‘Jesus, let me breathe,’ Anders cried.

 

‘You are the most … just, just don’t…’ Mitchell shook his head and buried his face in Anders’ shoulder. Anders let him stay there for a few minutes, trying to ignore his crying, just waiting for him to stop. Eventually Mitchell lifted his head and Anders frowned at the wet patch on his shirt.

 

‘Oh, I forgot to tell you the best bit of news. Since it’s entirely your fault Dawn’s had to leave you can be my new assistant.’

 

‘What?’ Mitchell said, snapping back to more his usual self.

 

‘You, I mean I can’t exactly hire a mortal, can I? All our clients are fucking vampires and Charlotte said your little friend Jane is going to be our point of contact, because she finds modern life too irritating and lives in some old haunted house in Kent most of the time. And that way I get to see you looking hot in suits all day.’

 

‘I don’t do suits,’ Mitchell said emphatically.

 

‘Jane told me you looked gorgeous in suits back in the day, she said you looked like James Bond.’

 

‘Jane talks a lot of shit. Anders, I’ll help but I can’t…’

 

‘You’ll learn, how hard can it be?’ he said breezily. ‘All Dawn did was type letters and nag me.’

 

Mitchell opened his mouth to reply, but shook his head.

 

‘Anyway,’ Anders continued. ‘Do you want to get hammered and fuck?’

 

Mitchell smiled at him, kissed him and rested their foreheads together. ‘You are a genius, Anders Johnson.’

 

‘I know,’ Anders replied.

 


	12. A vampire, a ghost and a briefcase full of cash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell is Anders' new assistant and he isn't enjoying it. Anders on the other hand is finding briefcases full of cash really take the edge of what he's doing, especially when they're delivered by a certain attractive, female vampire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette for her help as ever.

**Two weeks later**

Mitchell scowled as he pushed the glass door of JPR’s offices open and slung his rucksack on the desk that Dawn used to occupy.

‘Morning,’ Anders called breezily. ‘What time do you call this?’

‘I was at the printers picking up your proofs,’ Mitchell snapped, dumping two large envelopes on Anders desk, giving him a cursory kiss and heading for the coffee machine.

‘And,’ Anders continued. ‘That isn’t a suit. Or even a shirt and tie. This isn’t dress down Friday.’

‘You like this shirt,’ Mitchell protested, holding out his arms looking at the faded checked pattern of red and blue.

‘Yeah, because it’s too small and so tight across the chest I can see your chest hair, which is sexy. But I told you to get a suit.’

‘I’ve been kind of busy, a lot on my mind, you know?’

‘I suppose I could ask Jane to take you shopping, she did offer.’

‘Have you forgotten what she threatened to do to Dawn?’ Mitchell said, incredulously, slopping milk over the counter.

‘I don’t think she was serious,’ Anders said, dismissively.

‘Let me guess, that assumption dates from the moment she walked in here in skin tight leather trousers?’

‘Look, she’s been fine, you’re all down on her, but she’s actually been quite fun. I mean most meetings I have are incredibly dull, at least you can have a laugh with her.’

‘Yeah, the threats to our nearest and dearest are hysterical. Charlotte didn’t make her liaise with you, Jane asked, you know.’

‘Whatever, Dawn’s thousands of miles away and sounds happy, Ty’s actually pleased to be home, she knows my power over her. In fact the only person not happy with this arrangement is you. I’d have thought you’d have been delighted not to be mopping up other people’s piss all day.’

‘I liked my old job, it was satisfying.’

Anders laughed. ‘You’re not even a clean freak, don’t talk crap.’

‘It was!’ Mitchell said hotly, sitting down on the leather sofa. ‘I felt like my job was doing some good, no matter how small the contribution it was making people’s lives better. Now I help cover up murders, expand Charlotte’s business interests and promote vain celebrities who want to get in trashy magazines.’

‘Well, we’re dropping the celebrities. They all hate you anyway because you’re rude to them. And better looking.’

‘Honest, Anders, I’m honest. They’re talent free, pea brained, attention seeking wankers. I mean, what happened to the notion you had to have talent to be a celebrity?’

‘That went out way back, old man. Now, cheer up, Dawn’s finished the list.’

‘What list?’ Mitchell scowled again.

‘Your list, of the things you need to do to fill in for her. I printed it off for you.’ Anders got up and handed Mitchell several sheets of paper stapled together. Mitchell began to look through them as Anders went back to his desk and began idly looking through his emails. ‘You’ve got loads to catch up on by the way,’ he called to Mitchell.

‘Hang on, it says here _check birthday diary and buy Anders’ brothers presents_.’

‘Yeah, and Grandpa.’

‘And to _speak to your housekeeper and organise any extra payments for party damage._ ’

‘Yeah.’

‘Why was that Dawn’s job?’

‘It just was,’ Anders shrugged.

‘Well that’s not going to be my job. There’s enough on here about tax returns and something called SAGE…’

‘That’s payroll.’

‘Anders, I’m no accountant.’

‘You’ll learn.’

‘This is a really bad idea. I haven’t a clue about PR.’

‘Look, you leave all the PR stuff to me, you just need to email people, find stuff out, sort things for me and sit and look pretty. Pretty and smart. Oh and deal with the more mental vampires. That fat guy was here again.’

‘Ah, Jim’s ok.’

‘I don’t like him, he blocks the light. Arrange your meetings away from the office please.’

‘Shall I meet Jane away from the office?’

‘Only if she’s not wearing something tight or short.’

‘You’re a dick, or you think with your dick.’

‘You love my dick,’ Anders said with a wink. Mitchell rolled his eyes and waved two fingers at him.

Mitchell sighed and read through the list again, it seemed impossible, it was so many years since he’d done a job that required him to use his brain. He’d lost his confidence if he was honest, and the technology didn’t help, he was out of his depth and Anders was a bad teacher, there were very few people he could turn to for help. Carl was a musician who’s best suggestion was he play calming music, he’d picked some stuff out but as Anders felt even CD players were outdated he had nothing to play it on, telling him to ‘stick it on an iPod’.

‘Anders, I’m going just going to lose you clients,’ he admitted. ‘I’m hopeless, I can’t do all this.’

‘That’s fine, we’re running this down anyway. Look, the amount Charlotte pays I can sack the rest off this minute, the only reason I’m not is that it would arouse suspicion, so if you could fuck up a bit that would actually help. I am going to insist you stop dressing like the cleaner though.’

‘We’ve been through this, I’m not comfortable with you spending all that money on me and I can’t afford new suits.’

Anders came and sat beside him. ‘Can you stop with this paying for you shite? You pretty much live with me.’ Anders put his hand on Mitchell’s. ‘Let me look after you. Anyway, I can put it on expenses.’

‘No, you do too much for me already,’ Mitchell said, shaking his head. ‘You have given me more than I could ever have dreamed of, I can’t take more from you.’

‘John, you have to stop with this crap.’

‘No, Anders, I’ve fucked up your business, I’ve endangered your friend, I’ve put you in danger, I’ve sucked you into this sick fucking world and you’re now going out to talk public officials out of investigating cases of murder…’

‘John…’ Anders squeezed his hand. ‘She’s paying me a fucking fortune.’

‘That’s not the point!’ Mitchell cried.

‘But it’s quite nice, I mean it takes the edge off. And means I can buy the most important person in my life some decent clothes. Actually, you should have a pay rise. We’ll call it a bonus.’

‘It doesn’t matter how you do it, it’s still the same.’

Anders groaned. ‘Oh for fuck’s sake. Ok, you forced me to do this. Either you come shopping with me or Jane. Jane would love to take you shopping.’

‘Jane and me have a bad history with shopping.’

‘And you’ll have a worse future. Come on, let’s go get an early lunch then you can get kitted out.’ He put his arm around Mitchell. ‘I’ll blow you in the fitting rooms.’

Mitchell shook his head. ‘You’re such a slut.’ He sighed. ‘Ok, one suit and I’m holding you to the blow job.’

 

**A week later**

‘Where have you been?’ Mitchell cried, jumping up as Anders walked through the door of his flat, where Mitchell had been pacing, sweating and shaking most of the afternoon.

‘I had a late meeting,’ he replied, his face creasing in concern.

‘I can see their faces,’ Mitchell said, clawing at his hair. ‘I need to drink, I can hear their blood and their heartbeats, even out in the street.’ He pointed accusingly at the window, then began pacing up and down the living room, pulling at his hair and moaning to himself.

‘Hey, just hang on a minute, I’ll do it.’ Anders grabbed himself a bottle of vodka and poured out two glasses. ‘Here, have this.’

‘I’m literally about two minutes away from taking out an entire tube stop! I do not need to get drunk!’ He flung the glass against the wall and let out a scream of rage as the glass shattered and the liquid darkened the pale grey paint work.

‘John, will you calm down! You were fine at lunch time,’ Anders cried, seriously alarmed now.

‘That was then. It’s been hours now. Can you imagine if Jane had found me like this? Maybe I should go?’ he said, his tone changing dangerously. ‘I can’t fight it, it’s what I am. It’s always going to get me.’

‘ _Stay there_!’ Bragi commanded, now taking control. Anders saw himself, as if he were viewing from the heavens, a puppet master pulling the strings of his human body. ‘ _Stopp, du er under min kommando. You will stop craving blood, you don’t want it, you don’t like it. You won’t think about it, you won’t kill anyone and you won’t think about the people you have killed._ ’ Anders crossed the room to stand in front of Mitchell. He cupped his cheek and watched as his hazel eyes gazed at him with a strange, glazed expression as he spoke. ‘ _You won’t kill anyone and you won’t hurt yourself either._ _Jeg er glad i deg_.’ Anders stroked his cheek. ‘ _Kiss me if that’s all understood_?’  

Mitchell leaned forward and kissed Anders, before wrapping him in his arms and taking deep, shuddering breaths of relief. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you,’ he murmured. ‘Thank you, my love.’

‘You wasted good vodka there,’ Anders said softly.

‘I’m sorry. It terrifies me, when it comes back, because I know what I could do, so do you now. What if I did? It gets stronger each time.’

‘So do I,’ Anders said. ‘So do I, I’m spouting that Norse shit all the time now.’

Mitchell drew him into a tighter hug before be began to kiss him again, hands slipping inside his shirt this time. Anders wasn’t in the mood, but he let it happen, let himself be carried away on a wave of Mitchell’s affection. It was better than talking about it, anything was better than talking about how much Mitchell needed him.

 

**Christmas**

‘Ohhh, mistletoe!’ Jane called as she walked through the doors and spied the sprig over the door to the kitchen. ‘Which one of you will give me a kiss?’ she called to Anders and Mitchell, who were at their respective desks, Mitchell was head down buried in work, Anders had his feet on the table as he read the papers on his iPad.

‘I couldn’t leave a pretty maid all alone at Christmas,’ Anders smirked, getting up and going to join Jane. Mitchell muttered under his breath as Anders kissed Jane on the cheek, she pulled him back and kissed him on the mouth instead. Anders grinned and Jane winked at Mitchell who just scowled at them.

‘Ain’t you gonna kiss me, darlin’? she said to Mitchell. ‘Come on, you know you used to love kissing under the mistletoe.’ She turned to Anders. ‘One year we was in Scotland, big ‘ouse owned by Charlotte, we’d invited ‘im and Herrick and a few other people. You’d have loved it, Anders, turned into a massive sex party.’ She winked at Mitchell. ‘Remember, you and me, Ivan and his lovely new wife?’

Mitchell got up, marched across the room, planted a kiss on Jane’s lips, then a much longer one on Anders’ lips. ‘Now shut up and let me work,’ he said gruffly.

‘Well, if there’s invitations to sex parties going, I am most definitely interested,’ Anders told Jane. ‘Drink?’

‘Can I have wine?’ she asked, twirling a long curl in her fingers as she leaned on the doorframe.

‘John, you want some?’ Anders called.

‘No, I’m working,’ came the terse reply.

‘Spoilsport, it is Christmas. What are you doing at Christmas?’ he asked Jane.

‘Charlotte and I are going to ‘er ‘ouse in Kent, you’d be welcome, but I ‘ear you don’t like blood and that one’s gone frigid.’

‘A sex party?’ Anders laughed.

‘Might be,’ she said coyly. ‘I’m sure if you and Mitchell joined us it would be a brilliant sex party,’ she laughed. Anders laughed too and looked at Mitchell again, eyebrow raised.

‘No fucking way,’ Mitchell snapped. ‘We’re going to Carl’s.’

‘That’ll be fuckin’ fun,’ Jane said sarcastically, going to sit on the edge of Mitchell’s desk. ‘I remember one year when you were with ‘im all loved up and it were right boring.’

‘I remember that,’ Mitchell said, looking up. ‘You were shaking by midday because you hadn’t had any blood, pathetic.’

Jane turned to look just at Mitchell and let her eyes flash black. He just laughed at her.

‘What you gonna do, Jane?’

‘Just you remember what I do to men who ‘urt me,’ she whispered, sliding off the table to speak in his ear.

‘Jane, let me put this really simply. Fuck off.’ He then turned back to his computer, ignoring her. She let out a low hiss before getting up and going to sit with Anders, under the pretence of giving him instructions.

Mitchell listened as they flirted and laughed, he knew Jane was doing it to get at him, he knew she was trying to provoke him so he steadfastly ignored them. It was Anders he was really getting irritated by, Mitchell didn’t understand how he could get over the boat incident. He supposed it was because Jane was wearing very tight jeans and had taken a large pink cardigan off to reveal a clinging black blouse that left very little to the imagination. But then there was a part of him, less tiny than he liked to think, that wanted to grab her and screw her senseless too. He sort of hated himself for that.

He listened to her laughing at a story Anders was telling and scowled again, he hated the way she was sitting, almost on top of Anders, the way his eyes were focused on her breasts, small and perfect under clinging silk. Maybe this was Anders’ new game. They hadn’t been out to pull girls since that awful night with Jane, maybe Anders missed the thrill of the chase, the arousal of winding him up. It made Mitchell feel better to think it was all a game to Anders, that it was being done for his benefit. But the doubt still nagged and clawed at him, especially when he heard Anders laughing at Jane’s story, no doubt about him.

Mitchell put his head in his hands, he wanted to grab Anders and take him away from her poisonous influence. He wanted to run away and live somewhere pure and untouched by vampires. There was the promise of New Zealand, but that was a long way off. Anders was right, they had to tread carefully and prepare well, but Mitchell longed to lay his lover down in a field of green with no a soul near them and hold him, only him, safe from the Janes and Charlottes of the world, with nothing to spoil their love, which was like nothing he’d ever felt before.

**Just after Christmas**

Anders and Mitchell were sat in the corner of the pub, Mitchell with his arm casually slung around Anders’ shoulders. It wasn’t a gay pub, but it was laid back and easy going enough for them to be openly affectionate. Mitchell sipped his drink and smiled as he looked around at the crowded bar. For most of his life the mere idea of being openly affectionate with another man in public was unthinkable, as unthinkable as the idea he could sit in a crowded bar, full of people still enjoying the indulgences of the festive season and not want to drink every one of them dry. He didn’t even notice their heartbeats. He felt as if he could reach the heavens.

‘What are you grinning at?’ Anders asked, inclining his head towards him. Anders had enjoyed Christmas more than he’d expected, Mitchell and Carl had been surprisingly childish in their celebrations. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the sight of them almost dancing around Tesco’s on Christmas Eve filling the trolley with every treat and indulgence they could lay their hands on. ‘We’ve waited decades for Christmas to become a religion free celebration,’ Carl had explained. Anders just shrugged. ‘We say _Got Jul_ ,’ he’d replied. ‘So perhaps you have to worship me now instead.’ Carl had merely raised his eyebrows before being distracted by Mitchell’s discovery of Stollen bites and a tub of Bombay mix in the shape of a Christmas tree.  Also, Anders had never considered that he could get pleasure from giving to someone else before, but Mitchell’s delight at his pile of presents was worth every penny and every hour in the throng of Christmas shoppers on Oxford Street.

‘Just this,’ Mitchell replied, dragging Anders’ attention back to the present and kissing him on the temple. ‘Us, here and now.’ He smiled at Anders again, his heart filling with a rush of gratitude to the man who had freed him from the torment of bloodlust.

‘You soppy old sod. Go get us another drink,’ Anders said with an affectionate smile. Anders was in a good mood. They’d closed the company for the week and there’d been no word from Jane. Mitchell had warned him that it would kick off on New Year, that was when vampires traditionally indulged, Christmas had been until very recently too much of a religious festival to make a good hunt.

Mitchell watched him go to the bar, smile at the barmaid as he ordered and come back with another two pints. Anders shook his head laughing as he sat back down, nestling close to Mitchell.

‘What?’ Mitchell asked, still grinning.

‘You, you have that soppy look on your face still.’

‘I am not soppy,’ Mitchell protested, kissing Anders. Anders laughed.

‘You so are. But it’s nice to see you smiling again. You’ve been miserable since you started working for me. I thought you were going off me.’

‘Never!’ Mitchell cried, taking his hand and kissing it. ‘That will never happen. But, it’s nice not to be under your yoke at work. God, I don’t know how Dawn did it.’

‘Did what?’ Anders said.

‘Put up with it all. With you.’

‘You love being with me all day. I think she did too.’

‘Anders, Dawn really didn’t fancy you.’

‘I know,’ he laughed. ‘That, my sweet creature of the night, is your privilege.’ He sniggered. ‘If only we could send her a photo for her special lady time.’

‘Anders!’ Mitchell cried. ‘Stop it!’ He was laughing though as he squeezed his shoulder.

‘Sorry, I can’t blame the girl though, if I wasn’t fucking you, I’d definitely wank over you.’

Mitchell spluttered, laughing. ‘You are outrageous. Come here,’ he pulled him closer and kissed him on the lips. ‘There, best way to stop you talking crap.’

‘I’ll have you know I’m the god of talking crap,’ Anders retorted. ‘Hey, let’s play the god game.’

Mitchell rolled his eyes. ‘That is so an excuse for you to eye people up.’

‘An excuse for us both to,’ Anders corrected. He looked around the bar, it was a traditional pub, circular in shape, patterned carpet and dark wooden tables with upholstered seating around the walls, where they sat. Mitchell fiddled with his beer mat with the hand not around Anders, a distraction from his urge to smoke.

‘Okay,’ he said, happy to indulge Anders, who was after all, his whole world these days.

‘That one,’ Anders said, nudging Mitchell and indicating a tall, good looking blond man to their left, who was drinking red wine with his girlfriend.

‘Umm, Baldr, the beautiful,’ Mitchell said. ‘And her? Ummm, maybe Sjofn. She looks nice.’

Anders burst out laughing. ‘I told you Baldr is my Grandpa! He’s not beautiful.’

‘To you, but I saw his picture and he’s a good looking guy.’

‘Well, you’re about the same age, weirdo. And Sjofn is an evil, insidious slag.’

‘Turn you down, did she?’

‘I turned her down actually. Shame, she swings both ways too, would have been fun.’ He took a swig of his drink and shook his head ruefully.

‘How come you turned her down?’ Mitchell asked.

‘She sort of said she didn’t care if Mike ended up as collateral damage when Axl was all set to marry Eva. Ah, water under the bridge, she’s shacked up with Mike now.’

‘See, you do care, even though you pretend you don’t,’ Mitchell said, gazing adoringly at Anders. Anders rolled his eyes at him.

‘On with the game,’ Anders said, embarrassed.

‘Okay, what about that girl in the fur jacket who’s just walked in?’

Mitchell indicated a tall woman with long black hair which she shook out as she removed a large greyish fur coat. She unwound a white scarf, hardly any lighter than her skin, which was smooth and pale, and her eyes were bright blue under dark lashes.  She looked around, clearly expecting to meet someone and gave them a small smile when she caught them staring at her.

‘Er,’ Anders said, turned back to Mitchell. ‘Skaldi, goddess of winter. Either that or a vampire.’

‘She’s not a vampire.’

‘I know, but she looks like she could be. Dark, sexy looking, like a vampire.’

Mitchell laughed. ‘Anders, you’ve met enough vampires by now to know that there isn’t a type.’

‘Yeah, in general. But out of the ones I know well, there’s you. Carl’s dark and not bad looking, and Jane, who is dark and hot, in that dirty, sexy kind of way.’

Mitchell rolled his eyes. ‘I don’t know what you see in her.’

‘Of course you do, you spent decades screwing her. I’m actually quite pissed off you’ve gone off her, because we’d have a wicked threesome.’

‘You are so delusional.’

‘What’s she like in bed? Real fire cracker I reckon.’

Mitchell sighed and shook his head, he looked at Anders witheringly. ‘If I tell you will you shut up about it?’

‘I’ll probably wank about it, but I’ll shut up,’ he quipped.

‘You are going to be in so much trouble later,’ Mitchell whispered, leaning into his ear and letting his teeth ever so slightly, but with enough edge to warn, catch his neck. Anders just grinned as he enjoyed Mitchell’s lips on his neck.

‘So spill, what’s Dracula sex like?’

‘Jane,’ Mitchell said, hesitantly. He’d had just enough to drink to make him loosen his tongue and indulge Anders, but finding the words to describe her wasn’t easy. ‘Jane knows what she wants, she likes playing, but she’s kind of controlled until the moment she bites and then… she goes crazy, but sort of frenzied.’

‘Bites?’

‘Oh, did I not mention? Jane is incapable of having sex without blood.’ He smirked at the disappointed look on Anders’ face. He then spoke more seriously. ‘It’s all sex is to her, a means to get blood. She used to, probably still does, pose as a hooker. If someone treats her well she’s quick, if someone hurts her she makes sure they’re frightened and die in pain. Awww, not turning you on?’ Mitchell said seeing the slightly disgusted look on Anders’ face.

‘I meant sex with you.’

‘Well, same really, she likes biting, we can bite each other and heal really fast. It’s a turn on for a lot of vampires.’

‘For you?’

‘Until I met you,’ Mitchell said softly. ‘Now we have much more fun,’ he added, placing his hand on Anders’ thigh, stroking softly, keen to steer the conversation in another direction. ‘You are the most fun I’ve ever had, I don’t want to think about anyone else, nobody else matters, especially her.’

‘Well, I’m not going to argue with that,’ Anders’ said, feeling smug. ‘You wanna wrap things up here soon?’ he asked, enjoying the feel of Mitchell’s hand.

‘Yeah,’ Mitchell smiled. ‘I think I do.’ He leaned in and kissed Anders softly. ‘Let’s go home.’

 

 

**A month later**

Anders strolled into the office after lunch grinning and carrying a new briefcase. He’d been out on a mysterious visit that morning that he’d refused to tell Mitchell about. ‘Hello!’ he called. ‘Hey, where’s my gorgeous, but slutty creature of the night? It’s champagne time and I’m going to lick it off your cock.’

Anders stopped abruptly as he looked up and saw Mitchell sitting next to an elderly black man in a brown suit at the conference table. They were looking at a large paper book and both held fountain pens, and Mitchell had a pile of receipts and notepad in front of him. They both looked up at Anders scowling.

‘Anders, do you remember Mr Winston?’ Mitchell said, looking embarrassed. Mr Winston threw Anders a dark look.

‘Yeah, ghost chap? How you doing?’

‘Very well, Mr Johnson. But there’s going to be a few changes around here,’ Mr Winston said, pressing his lips together in disapproval.

‘What’s going on?’ Anders asked, looking pointedly at Mitchell.

‘Before he died Mr Winston was an accountant. I can’t do accounts, Anders.’ Mitchell threw Anders what he hoped was a desperate face. ‘He’s agreed to come in a few times a week.’

‘When that wicked she-devil isn’t here,’ Mr Winston said firmly.

‘Jane?’ Anders asked. ‘She’s cool.’

‘Hardly,’ Mitchell said, scowling. It was becoming an increasing point of tension between them that Anders seemed to be actively enjoying her company, whilst Mitchell loathed her, unable to forgive her threats to Dawn, George, Annie and Nina.

‘She is a wicked, wicked demon, unrepentant and sent by the devil,’ Mr Winston said darkly, fixing Anders with a stern glare.

‘Anyway,’ Mitchell continued. ‘Mr Winston will do our accounts for a while.’

‘I will give you six weeks of my time. My rules are simple and few. No profanity, especially in front of ladies, no lewd conduct, no violence, no un-Christian rituals,’ he glared darkly at Anders. ‘And no vampires, except Mr Mitchell and his nice friend.’

‘Right, that sounds like more than a few,’ Anders said, eyeing Mr Winston uneasily. ‘What’s all this?’ he said indicating the book.

‘This is a ledger, this is what we will use from now on. I am familiar with the current rules of Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs, but I do not use computers. They host multitudes of sins.’ Anders rolled his eyes.

‘Where’s the cheque book?’ Mitchell asked. ‘We can’t find it.’

‘Ask Dawn, I have no idea, it’s probably not been used since 2001,’ Anders replied. ‘John, can I have a word?’ he nodded towards his own desk, screened off from the rest of the office. Mitchell got up and followed Anders, mouthing an apology to Mr Winston. ‘What the fuck is this about?’ Anders hissed, flopping back in his chair.

‘I cannot do the accounts and if we don’t submit the company tax returns soon we’ll get fucking fined,’ Mitchell hissed back. ‘Look, he’s a really nice old guy, lives opposite the flat my old girlfriend lived in.’

‘Another ghost?’

‘No, Josie, she was my girlfriend back in the sixties.’

‘Special one?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, she was,’ Mitchell said, folding his arms. ‘I adored her. Anyway, that’s how I met Mr Winston.’ He smiled, remembering. ‘It was so bizarre for Josie, we’d have whole conversations and she couldn’t see or hear him, she said it was like I was going crazy. But the poor guy hadn’t spoken to anyone for years, I used to have tea with him when she was at work and he’d do the washing up, she found it so funny, she used to laugh and pour herself a large scotch.’ Mitchell’s face lit up at the happy memory, his eyes shining with affection. Anders frowned.

‘And he was messenger boy to Annie?’

‘Yes, oh and he’s seen her again and they’re safe. It’s better I don’t actually know where, but he says they’re ok and he took my share of the cash from Charlotte to them, which thank god they took.’

‘You gave them five grand?’ Anders said, voice rising.

‘Well, eight actually. Look, you said anything you had was mine too,’ he reasoned, seeing the look of outrage on Anders’ face.

‘Not to give to your ex-girlfriend!’

‘It’s for George and Nina, and the baby, Annie’s a ghost! It’s the least I can do, it’s my fault.’

‘Not really. Interesting you’re happy to take money for your ex, but won’t let me buy you decent clothes.’

‘I just said it’s not for Annie,’ Mitchell snapped back. ‘And it’s completely different.’

‘As in you’re happy to give people who think they’re too good to know you thousands of pounds, but you can’t let me give you a few hundred?’

‘Anders… it’s not like that, come on, my love.’ Mitchell put a hand on Anders’ shoulder as he stood up and tried to pull him in for a hug.

‘And that’s another thing,’ Anders said, pulling away. ‘Does this count as lewd behaviour? Mr Winston seems very keen on your _girlfriends_.’

‘He’s cool with us, we’ve talked and I told him what you’ve done for me, he thinks you’re very noble.’

‘Oh, fantastic, a ghost thinks I’m noble, we’ll halla-fucking-lullah.’

‘Anders, don’t be like this. He’s really helping us, he’s an old friend and he’s been very good to me.’

‘So, is this Josie a ghost too? Is he going to be bringing us updates on all your ex’s, or just the sainted Annie?’ Anders sat down again and began flicking through the pile of papers on his desk. ‘At least he’s dressed smartly even if it is out of date. Unlike some.’ He eyes Mitchell’s jeans disapprovingly. Mitchell groaned.

‘Josie isn’t a ghost, she took her door. And he’s not bringing me updates. God, you’re actually jealous aren’t you?’ Mitchell said in amazement.

‘Course I’m fucking not, you couldn’t even knob her, what’s to be jealous of?’ Anders snapped back. ‘Now, can you ring Claire from the catering company about the party in Shoreditch, I want it all hipster and arty shit, you’ll hate it, but it’ll suit that crowd of wankers. And make sure they have pink champagne, it’s Jane’s favourite and this boutique is her baby, she said it was a two hundred and fiftieth birthday present from Charlotte.’

‘Oh well, if it’s Jane’s favourite,’ Mitchell said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He sat in the desk and looked at Anders appraisingly. ‘I can’t believe you’re so taken in by her after her stunt on the boat.’

‘I’m not taken in by her, she knows I can finish her with a few words. I’m just being pragmatic. We have to work with her, she’s fun. You should know, sounds like you got up to all sorts.’

‘Whatever she’s said she’s probably exaggerating.’

‘She said you like threesomes,’ Anders said, winking.

‘Not jealous now?’ Mitchell retorted.

‘I can see the benefit when I can stick my dick into the woman in question. Don’t rule it out, John. We can always gag her, or I’ll Bragi her into silence if it helps.’

‘Anders, Jane is the very last person on the planet I’d have a threesome with.’ Mitchell scowled as Anders laughed. ‘She is!’

‘I bet you still wank off over her.’ He picked up his tablet and began scrolling through his emails. ‘Come on, you, me and Jane, we’d have a great time. Can you imagine her tits covered in our spunk?’

‘For fuck’s sake,’ Mitchell muttered. ‘Right, I’m going to get back to work.’

Anders laughed and stood up to kiss him, fingering the collar of his old checked shirt as Mitchell stood stiffly in front of him. ‘Lighten up and think of Jane sucking your dick while I screw you,’ he smirked, kissing Mitchell again. ‘And by the way, that suitcase, another ten grand in it and you won’t be getting arrested, so champagne time when Mr No Lewdness has gone home. Funny accent they have in Bristol isn’t it? Don’t go giving all the money away to the she-ghost, will you?’

And with that Anders sat down, leaving Mitchell a little stunned.

 

**Three weeks later**

Jane darted through the door to the kitchen and looking around the office grinned. ‘Has that grumpy faced fucker gone now?’ she asked Anders. She was wearing a short black skirt and a green, thin fitted jumper, despite the cold her legs were bare except for the thigh high boots she wore. Anders found himself wishing Ty were here to give her pointy nipples in that jumper.

‘He’s going to meet a catering company. I feel for them, I really do,’ Anders replied, referring to Mitchell’s now customary foul mood in office hours, made even more foul by Jane’s presence. Anders grinned though as Jane threw herself on the sofa and swung her legs up on to it.

‘Come and sit ‘ere, darlin’, I think our meetings work better when you’re next to me.’

She smiled at him, twisting a long dark curl in her fingers. Anders looked at her and felt the familiar stirrings of lust. She’d been perfectly behaved since the night on the boat, outrageous flirting aside, and he was sure it was Charlotte, or the old girl, as he disparagingly called her behind her back that forced her hand. At least that’s what his dick told him.

‘So, what’s on the agenda?’ he asked as she moved her legs for him to sit down, immediately swinging them over his lap again and grinning.

‘There’s a boring list of names and addresses of people for you to talk to, short summary of what to say, text me when you’re done and I’ll wire the money over.’ She picked up his tie and began to play with it.

‘You know meetings with you are the best, short and sweet. Just like you.’ He placed his hand on her thigh.

‘You think I’m sweet?’ she gave him a coy smile.

‘At times, at other times you’re very, very naughty,’ he laughed, moving his hand up her thigh.

‘Anders,’ she said, her smile fading and eyes widening. She fixed him with a wide eyed pout. ‘You have to stop that.’

‘Do I?’ he said, reluctantly moving his hand towards her knee.

‘Yes. You’ll get me all wet and then leave me desperate,’ she said, fluttering her eyelashes. Anders let out a groan. ‘Do you want to find out if I’m wearing panties?’ she asked, reverting to a wicked grin.

Anders grinned back. ‘I’d be willing to bet the next payment that you’re not,’ he said, his hand creeping upwards until his fingers brushed wiry hair and felt her warmth. ‘I win,’ he smirked, parting her legs slightly to give him better access. Jane smiled and shifted to help him, tipping her head back as he began to stroke her.

It wasn’t enough for her though, she was soon rearranging them so she straddled him, riding three of his fingers as his thumb stroked her, Anders had pushed her jumper up and undone her bra and was sucking at her nipples, utterly lost in her; the feel, the smell, the heat and the sounds she was making. There was something he loved about the control she took, how she knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it. So different from most women he’d been with, she had that same allure Mitchell had, she was dangerous and strong and made him feel alive. He could feel Bragi stirred and strong within him as he thrust his fingers in her, stroking her inside and out, he kissed along her breasts, taking her other nipple in his mouth and sucking.

‘Yessss,’ she encouraged as he pulled harder with his mouth, flicking her nipple behind his teeth with his tongue as he’d wanted to do for months. ‘Fuck, yesss,’ she moaned again, this time letting out a small cry as she clenched around him, her eyes going black as night as she came.

She looked at him laughing breathlessly as he pulled his hand free, she grabbed his wrist and licked a finger, but he pulled his hand back, greedily lapping at all three fingers as his other hand frantically fiddled with his zip. Pausing only to remove the necessary clothing Anders lifted her hips and brought them down on top of him, groaning deeply as her warmth sank down the length of his cock.

‘God, I’m fucking a god,’ she murmured, laughing as she began to move, opening his shirt and letting her nails rake through his chest hair. She blinked, consciously letting her eyes go back to their normal brown.

‘No, no, put them back,’ Anders grunted, his thrusts becoming faster as he struggled to hold out much longer. ‘Your eyes.’

Jane laughed as she complied with his request, then leaned into kiss him for the first time. She quickly pulled away, fangs bared and let him thrust into her a final few times before he came, face buried pressed to her chest. Jane let her head drop forward and nosed his neck.

‘I don’t even want to rip your throat out when we fuck,’ she said shakily. ‘I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.’ She looked back at Anders, almost wearily. He watched her eyes, there were flecks of gold and green in her irises now he looked closely and they betrayed her unease.

‘We should clean up,’ he said finally.

Jane climbed off him and grabbed a tissue out her bag, her skirt was now bunched around her waist and Anders watched a dribble of liquid trickle down her inner thigh as she headed for the toilet. Anders sat with his cock out on the sofa, his shirt undone and hair ruffled, breathing heavily. He felt a knot forming in his stomach. He’d felt in control when he was just flirting with Jane, enjoying the chase. Now he’d actually screwed her he felt a horrible sick feeling wash over him as he thought of Mitchell, and what would happen when he inevitably found out.

~

When Anders had also cleaned up a few minutes later Jane was opening a beer and patted the seat beside her. Anders was shocked to see tears in her eyes.

‘Hey, what’s up?’ he said, concerned and bemused as he sat beside her.

‘You’re going to ‘urt me now,’ she said softly, wiping her eyes.

‘What?’

‘You’ll do your thing on me so I don’t tell Mitchell. And if ‘e finds out ‘e’ll ‘urt me, ‘e always ‘urts me.’ She began to cry more.

‘Look, don’t cry, I’m not going to tell him and I won’t hurt you. We had a bit of fun, harmless fun, yeah?’

She nodded, sniffing. ‘Men always ‘urt me and I ‘ave to kill ‘em then. But I couldn’t… not Mitchell. ‘E’s been my friend for so long.’

‘I know you wouldn’t hurt him.’

‘Tell ‘im, will yer? ‘E ‘ates me now.’ She started crying more again. ‘Do yer remember when he threw me on the ground outside that club?’

‘Yeah,’ Anders said, frowning at the memory, it made him deeply uncomfortable to see Mitchell behaving like that, it brought back memories of his father.

‘It really ‘urt and ‘e were so nasty.’

‘You did beat the crap out of him,’ Anders said, trying to comfort her.

‘I’ve learnt you ‘ave to look after yourself, that’s why I drink so much, keeps me strong. Mitchell’s so weak these days. Can’t be done, yer know. We need blood, we are blood, it’s what we are. ‘E can deny ‘imself for one year, ten years, fifty, but in the end ‘e’ll have to drink cos e’ll be so weak e’ll fade away.’

‘Really? He can’t live without blood?’

‘Not forever. But ‘e thinks ‘e can and now ‘e ‘ates me and if ‘e finds out about this ‘e’ll kill me,’ she sobbed. Anders put his arm around her and hugged her to him.

‘I won’t let him hurt you and he won’t find out. Look, this was a one off bit of fun, who knows next time maybe he’ll join in? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

She nodded and wiped her eyes with the tissue Anders handed her. ‘Anyway, I better get out of ‘ere before ‘e comes back. See you soon, darlin’.’ She stood up and kissed Anders on the cheek, picked up her jacket and wondered out leaving Anders staring into space and wondering what the hell he’d done.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Norse (Norwegian) translates as 'you are under my command' and 'I love you'.


	13. You Just Need Somebody to Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders has slept with Jane. Mitchell knows.

‘So I said to Stacey, she must find out what she wants, we can’t have this in every hospital in London. There’ll be priests next. I wish you still worked there, Stacey is useless,’ Mr Winston said, tapping his pen on the desk to make his point.

‘Huh?’ Mitchell said looking up, he’d been staring at his screen and not seeing anything for what seemed like hours.

‘Stacey, you remember, the teenage ghost in St Thomas’s, where you used to work. Had a crush on you, well, you and Mark Owen.’

‘What about Stacey?’ Mitchell asked, rubbing his eyes. Mr Winston rolled his eyes at him.

‘She can’t cope with the new ghost. This woman, she’s been round half the hospitals in London and now I’m hearing Bristol and Cardiff. I wish you were still there to sort it out. Stacey now just runs away from her.’

‘I wish I was there too. I hate this place,’ Mitchell said vehemently. He slammed the mouse down and kicked the floor.

‘What’s wrong with you this morning?’ Mr Winston asked, peering over his glasses. ‘You’re on another planet.’

‘I slept badly,’ Mitchell mumbled. That wasn’t true, he’d slept well, because Anders had used Bragi to sooth him to sleep, as he often did . Mitchell was heart sick, an altogether more difficult problem than tiredness. ‘Look, does Stacey want me to go and help her?’

‘Probably, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. She threw everything out the linen cupboard in a tantrum when you left, all over the corridors it was, she was so upset, and she’s just got used to not seeing you.’

‘Ok, let me know if you need me. I could use a break from here.’

‘I’ll speak to her again tonight, I can’t get any sense out of her. Crazy she is, opening every door. I’ve never known anything like it.’

Mitchell nodded, not really listening. He was still going over it all in his mind. Anders coming home, the guilty look and dash for the shower, the unmistakable smell of Jane on his clothes. The crushing weight of realisation that had literally knocked him off his feet, sent him stumbling to the bed and clutching a pillow to his chest as Anders showered. There hadn’t been cross words, there hadn’t been any words. Anders had acted as normal, Mitchell had just sat, glassy eyed and monotone, but said nothing.

What was to say? He knew it would happen, sooner or later. Anders wouldn’t stay faithful, not to him. He was a wreck, almost entirely dependent on Anders and he knew Anders hated that, hated the responsibility and seriousness of it, the feeling of being hemmed in. He could see it in him, and there must be anger at how his life had changed, Mitchell didn’t blame him, he’d feel angry if he were in Anders’ shoes. He also knew Anders still loved him, if he didn’t he wouldn’t do all this, wouldn’t have used Bragi to tell him to sleep well and wouldn’t have woken up with his arm slung over Mitchell’s body. Anders could easily separate sex from any kind of emotion, and Jane was undoubtedly alluring, god, how many times had he been drawn in? He wasn’t even angry with Anders, that was reserved for Jane, who he knew would have relished that little victory.

‘Mr Mitchell, I’m going to go now,’ Mr Winston said standing up. ‘You need to pay those cheques into the bank and post that pile first class,’ he pointed to a stack of cream envelopes, neatly addressed with black ink in loopy elegant handwriting. Mitchell nodded. ‘Oh, Mr Mitchell, you don’t fool me, I can spot your broken heart a mile off. He’s a vain, selfish fool and a heathen deity to boot.’ Mr Winston shook his head. ‘But I hope you find your way through. You think it’s all his heathen magic, but I remember you with Josie, you just need somebody to love, Mr Mitchell, that’s what keeps the vampire at bay.’

Mitchell nodded, too fed up to argue that it was far more than that with Anders, even if there was a truth in Mr Winston’s words. He knew he needed someone to love, someone to be a better person for. He wondered if Anders ever felt like that about him, that he was worth stopping the dubious use of Bragi to bring people to his bed? Obviously not. Maybe it wasn’t Anders, but him. After all, he wasn’t offering Anders anything but a monster with its claws clipped.

‘Thanks,’ Mitchell replied softly, watching Mr Winston leave. He wondered when Anders would be back, he’d gone to the Home Office with Charlotte this morning and Mitchell was nervous for him, it was the biggest thing yet. He couldn’t wait to fly away to New Zealand, to leave this behind forever. He’d finally be free and have Anders to himself. Another crushing realisation washing over him, he put his head his hands and bit his lip. Anders would never be faithful, could never be faithful. He might want to be, he might try to be, but in the face of temptation he was weak, he’d admitted as much himself when talking about Gaia.

Mitchell threw down his pen and got up, not caring about the invitations he was meant to be sending out to D-list celebs, or the stack of neatly addressed envelopes of invoices waiting to be sent. He grabbed his jacket and walked out the door, head down, stopping only to set the alarm.

He was out on the street and round the corner before he stopped to light a much needed cigarette, ripping the cellophane off the new packet hurriedly and sheltering from the wind to light it.

‘Thought you’d be ‘anging around Whitehall, waiting for ‘im,’ Jane said, seeming to appear from nowhere as he turned around.

‘Oh, you,’ Mitchell said flatly.

‘Nice to see you too, darlin’,’ she replied.

‘He can look after himself,’ Mitchell replied.

‘You want a drink?’ she asked, nodding to the bar over the road.

‘What of?’

‘Whatever you want, sweetheart,’ she replied. Mitchell looked at her, tiny and dark, her long curls were under a grey bobble hat today and she wore a black parker coat with a fur hood. She looked cute, if he didn’t know better he’d have thought she was cute.

‘I don’t want a drink,’ he replied.

‘Come on, Mitchell, you’re no fun anymore, let’s just get drunk and ‘ave a laugh like we used to.’

‘You just want to turn the clock back, don’t you?’

‘To when you was a laugh? Do you blame me?’

Mitchell took a drag and blew the smoke out slowly, looking at her. She had one of the prettiest faces he’d ever seen, but he hated it now, even her lips, red and moist, always breaking into a smile. He hated them and he hated her.

‘Why are you bothering? Why not just leave me be? I don’t care about you, I don’t want the blood, I’ve done hundreds of things you don’t approve of. Why not just fuck off and forget me? I’m nothing to you, you could have any vampire you like as your side kick.’

Jane stared at him and then smiled, it was a cold smile, it was a smile that said she knew that he knew.

‘Because I’m not losing you to a fucking werewolf, or this madness,’ she said, throwing her hands at him, meaning abstaining from blood. ‘You could be one of the greatest vampires that ever lived. Not wasting your immortality mopping ‘ospital floors or typing Anders’ letters. Even Anders, it’s a waste of his powers, Mitchell, you know and I know it’s a matter of time, so why don’t you stop messing about, come and have a drink and we can enjoy Anders in the best way. Together.’ She reached up and ran a finger down his cheek bone, then over his lips.

Mitchell stared at her and laughed. ‘You’re fucking delusional.’

‘Anders doesn’t think so.’

Mitchell laughed again, humourlessly, shaking his head. ‘You know he’d shag a loaf of bread if it was still warm. You’re not the first, you won’t be the last, you’re just another notch. One of very many. Don’t read things into it that aren’t there. He did it because he could and you have a warm hole.’

‘’E’s a fuckin’ freak,’ she said, dropping the pretence.

‘What?’ Mitchell said, he hadn’t been expecting that.

‘I didn’t want ‘is blood, ‘e’s a freak.’

‘Aw, disappointed?’

She shrugged. ‘It was weird.’

‘Well, I’ll let him know he was a disappointment,’ Mitchell said, grinding out his cigarette with his boot. ‘Were you going to the office?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well, I’m going home so you’ll have to wait for Anders.’

‘I don’t come all the way over ‘ere to wait. Let me in.’

‘Or what? You’ll kill me? Fuck my boyfriend?’

Jane shook her head. She looked around the street. ‘See that girl over there?’ she said, nodding towards a girl of about thirteen listening to her headphones at a bus stop. ‘I’ll rip her throat out if you don’t go back.’

Mitchell looked at her and shook his head. ‘Jane, you’re full of shit. Even you don’t do stuff like that. And if you did, Anders will talk until you’re burning.’

‘He might not.’

‘Oh he will, because you can fuck him,’ Mitchell leaned in, bringing his face close to hers. ‘But I have his heart.’ Jane snorted at this and Mitchell shook his head, relishing what he now realised was the truth. ‘Last night, after your little fumble, he came home to me. Now I don’t sleep well, things bother me, you wouldn’t understand. But anyway, Anders uses Bragi to sooth me to sleep and when I woke this morning his arm was around me. And when he left for work I went with him, because he’s given up his business to do this, for me. And as we were leaving the house I was drinking an expresso, they’re my favourite, made with the machine he brought so I could have them at his place, then I put on my very expensive sunglasses he brought me and we held hands until the tube station. So you can fuck him, you can get on your hands and knees and suck his dick all day long, but I have his heart. And you ain’t gonna change that no matter how much you wave your fucking tits at him.’

‘Do you know what I could do to you?’ Jane asked. ‘For daring to…’

‘Herrick used to remind me of that a lot. Then you’d turn up, he’d be all obsequious and flattering, I’d look you up and down like the slut you are and you’d drag me straight off to bed.’

‘Oh fuck it off then,’ she snapped, reaching into her handbag and shoving a brown envelope at him. ‘Give him that, it’s the next bunch he needs to see.’ She looked at him hard and searching. ‘You’ll keep, John Mitchell. You’ll fucking keep.’

‘Won’t I just,’ he muttered, walking away from her, feeling strangely better for the encounter.

~

‘John, your turn to choose,’ Anders called from the living room. Mitchell was finishing up clearing the kitchen after dinner.

‘Choose what?’ he called back.

‘TV. There’s the weather with Kirsten on the adult weather channel, looks promising.’

Mitchell stood in the doorway. ‘You want to watch porn?’

‘Why not? We never do. It’s the one thing we never do.’

‘Doesn’t do loads for me,’ Mitchell shrugged evasively.

‘Are you seriously saying you never watched porn in all your sex starved years in the monastery of Bristol?’

‘I did, but not often.’

‘Why not?’

‘I have imagination,’ Mitchell said dryly, sitting next to Anders and grabbing the remote, flicking through the channels. ‘I certainly didn’t have the collection you do on your laptop.’

‘Look, I’m a god.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘We have godly appetites.’

‘Well, good to know. You have terrible taste in porn anyway. All girls with fake boobs and no hair. And the guy stuffs not much better.’

‘What do you like then?’ Anders asked, turning to look at him, picking up his hand.

‘Ah, I dunno.’

‘Yes you do. You’re one hundred and nineteen. You know what you want, well you do with me,’ Anders let out a low whistle. ‘Boy, do you know.’

‘I used to like vampire stuff. You really don’t want to know.’ Mitchell cringed.

‘You can’t be filmed?’ Anders said raising an eyebrow.

‘There’s other ways. Anyway –‘

‘And now?’

‘Now? Now I have you. I only want you. I don’t think about anyone else, I don’t want to think about anyone else,’ he said tersely. ‘Now can we drop this stupid conversation?’

‘Touchy,’ Anders said, snuggling closer to Mitchell. ‘You know it’s all just shit, all the porn and shit? Nothing for you to be jealous of?’

‘I know.’

‘Same with Gaia, literally nothing but sex, sort of like an extra special wank. And the others … before we were… and anyone else,’ he added awkwardly. ‘All just a load of glamourised wanking, it’s just like a wet, warm hand attached to a pair of tits.’

Mitchell turned to look at Anders, eyebrows raised. ‘I can see why you’re the god of poetry, it’s obviously from the beautiful way you described that. Practically fucking Shakespeare.’

‘Look, you need to know you’re the standard. Since I met you, every time I’ve been balls deep in someone else, all I’ve been thinking is _this isn’t as good as with John_ and believe me there were times when I wished it was. I tried really hard not to fall in love with you. But nothing and nobody, and I mean _nobody_ comes close. In any way. So I’m stuck with you, until you fuck off, or throw yourself off a bridge or something.’ He added the last line as if it was a throw away, but Mitchell caught the edge to his voice. Then Mitchell almost laughed, he actually almost laughed.

‘I’m not leaving you,’ Mitchell said, pulling Anders to him and kissing his forehead. ‘You stupid fucker,’ he muttered, shaking his head.

Anders allowed himself to be pulled into an embrace, sure now that Mitchell knew. He’d expected fireworks and didn’t know what to make of this acceptance. But Mitchell was kissing him now, hot and deep and it didn’t matter anymore, Mitchell was here and so was he. He stroked Mitchell’s hair, burying his hand in his dark curls and thinking how much better this was than with anyone else. It wasn’t just the physical, though that had always been outstanding, it was the way Mitchell made him feel; wanted and desirable, beautiful and masculine.

Mitchell was kissing his neck, hands under his t-shirt, roaming his chest and pulling the t-shirt over his head before kissing him more. ‘Fuck me tonight,’ Mitchell whispered, kissing up his neck and ear before rubbing his face in Anders’ chest hair as he kissed and sucked his nipples.

Anders nodded, moaning slightly, getting up and leading Mitchell by the hand to their bed. They undressed quickly and Anders lay on top of Mitchell, stroking and preparing him, all the time they kissed and Mitchell’s arms were around him. Mitchell wanted him inside as soon as possible, and when Anders thrust slowly in he moaned and pulled him down to kiss him, bending his legs so he was doubled over, but so that Anders was close. Anders held him too, buried one hand in his hair, tugging softly as he fucked him.

‘Just you,’ Anders moaned as he thrust in and out, Mitchell’s moans were louder now and he was keening, whining about his need to come. ‘You fucking get me, you get under my skin, fuck, nobody else has ever done this,’ Anders whispered, his voice strained as he got closer.

‘Please, I need to, oh fuck, I need to come,’ Mitchell cried softly between kisses.

‘You’ll come, you’ll come, baby,’ Anders grunted. ‘You fucker, you absolute fucker, I can’t stop with you, I can’t stop.’

Mitchell bit his lip, crying out, Anders was hitting his prostate now and it was so good, his back arched off the bed and he clung to him, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

Anders came with a groan and collapsed on top of Mitchell, burying his face in Mitchell’s shoulder, cock still deep inside him.

‘Please,’ Mitchell whispered. ‘I need…’

Anders nodded, lifted his head and pulled out of Mitchell, scooted down his body, grabbing his legs and holding them where they were as he gazed between Mitchell’s open legs, moaning a little at the sight. He let go of Mitchell’s legs, letting them fall to the bed, then thrust three fingers straight inside him and lowered his head, taking Mitchell’s cock in his mouth. It didn’t take long, barely a minute of stroking and sucking and Mitchell was writhing and coming down his throat.

They lay for ages afterwards, wrapped in the duvet, naked and sweaty but not moving, save to wrap their limbs around each other more closely. They didn’t speak, there was too much to say, too much that could come tumbling out in the darkness and warmth of their bed, so they pressed their lips to each other’s skin instead, willing the other to read the secrets of their minds.

 

**A week later**

‘This fucking computer’s broken!’ Anders shouted, throwing a pen at it then banging the screen. ‘John! You broke the computer!’

‘Not touched it,’ Mitchell replied not looking up.

‘Jane, did you go on my computer?’ Anders called. Jane was laid out on the sofa, eyes closed. She was hung over and declared she needed a nap before going home. Mitchell eyed her warily out the corner of his eye.

‘No, stop fuckin’ shoutin’. I ‘ave an ‘eadache.’

‘It’s all buzzing, the screen,’ Anders complained.

‘What do you mean?’ Mitchell said, standing up and walking to Anders desk. He leaned over Anders and looked at the screen which was now black. ‘It’s not doing anything.’

‘Great, now you’ve killed it!’

‘I haven’t touched it! Look!’ he cried as the screen flickered and flashed with grey and white stripes, static buzzing. ‘Maybe it didn’t like your porn collection?’ he mumbled, laughing.

‘Piss off,’ Anders sniggered.

‘See, you should just get audio files of me telling you what I want to do to you, that would be far better,’ Mitchell said, not loudly, but loud enough for Jane to hear.

‘It would be actually,’ Anders said, grinning. ‘Ohh, I’m getting all hard now just thinking about it.’ He looked up at Mitchell and grinned and Mitchell started kissing his neck. They were startled by a loud burst of white noise, there was a flash of something on the screen that they both missed, not quick enough to look up.

‘What the fuck is that?’ Jane snapped, standing up. She shot Mitchell a look of disgust as he draped an arm over Anders. She peered at the screen. ‘Well, your computer’s fucked,’ she announced. ‘Or you have the bleeding dead after you.’

‘He has you already,’ Mitchell muttered.

Jane ignored him. ‘Anders, text me when you’ve done the lot in that folder.’

‘Will do, cheers,’ Anders said, not looking up.

‘Right, you cocksuckers are useless so I’m going out. I’m starvin’ an’ Charlotte’s up for it.’

With that she grabbed her coat and sauntered out, pausing only to glare at Mitchell with black eyes. He gave her a mirthless grin in return, wide enough to bare his fangs.

‘Does that mean our little she-Dracula is lezzing off with the old girl later?’ Anders asked.

‘No, that means you will have a lot of work to do tomorrow. Charlotte up for it means Charlotte is on the hunt in person. Which means every person in this city should probably lock themselves in a cathedral and chant Hail Marys.’

Anders sighed. ‘Why are they all so melodramatic? Why can’t they just be like Carl? Honestly, half the shit I deal with is less the actual killing and more the bizarre behaviour, the flaunting it and the sex shit. What’s wrong with these people?’

‘They enjoy it. Tramps and runaways in the dead of night are for the desperate, the ones who hate it. Going out to find someone in the West End, now that’s enjoyment, the chase as much as the kill.’ Mitchell looked at the floor, knowing which group he had fallen into. Anders looked up at him.

‘You were like that, weren’t you? When you fed? You loved it. Jane told me there was nobody who loved it more.’

Mitchell shrugged uncomfortably. ‘Now you know why I’m so frightened to be like that again. I know what I could do. I’d rather die than be like that again.’

‘You’re not going to die,’ Anders said firmly. ‘Don’t talk that way.’

‘Sorry,’ Mitchell said softly.

‘Anyway, I’m fed up of it. You tell them to curb it or I’m going to double my fee.’

‘Well, won’t be long until my passport comes now,’ Mitchell said, referring to the good news they’d had on that front. Anders had found a digital artist who could paint photographic quality, life like portraits and had been commissioned to work with Mitchell. The down side was Mitchell had to go and sit for him in the early hours of the morning to avoid detection. A combination of money and Bragi was enough to keep the man quiet, in all honesty money alone would have been enough for a hard pressed art student in London.

‘Oh fuck this piece of crap,’ Anders exclaimed in annoyance as the laptop hissed and flickered again. ‘Dawn was much better than you at sorting this out.’

‘Sorry. Shall I take it to be repaired?’

‘Not today. Let’s sack it off. If I’m going to have a heavy day tomorrow then I better put my feet up. It’s surprisingly tiring using my powers all the time.’

‘That explains a lot,’ Mitchell muttered under his breath, grabbing his jacket and following Anders out the door.

~

Mitchell and Anders had walked home, it was a crisp cold day and they’d stopped in a few bars on the way home, ending up eating at a Spanish bar near the river. When they eventually got home Anders flicked through channels, then his laptop, looking for porn that would impress Mitchell, to his amusement and Mitchell’s amused embarrassment.

‘You know, under that cool, sexy exterior there’s a priest just bursting to get out,’ Anders sniggered as Mitchell cringed at two girls faking extreme pleasure with an unnaturally large sex toy.

‘Get lost,’ Mitchell cried. ‘You just have no taste. It’s not even as if you go for that type in real life.’

‘What type?’

‘Blonde and plastic looking with bits as bare as a Barbie doll.’

‘What do I go for then?’

‘Dark and mysteriously sexy, with tons of hair’ Mitchell smirked, pointing to his chest. His phone beeped as Anders made a crude comment and he pulled it out his pocket. ‘Aw, fuck,’ he groaned, face falling.

‘What is it?’

‘Meet me tomorrow at noon, Charlotte’s town house.’

‘Who?’

‘Jane. You better do your thing in the morning to make sure, I know what she’s going to do.’

‘What?’

‘She’ll present me with a beautiful corpse, or worse a beautiful victim, trussed up ready for the taking, a cut on their wrist to whet my appetite. She’s done this before.’ He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘Did it work before?’

‘Sometimes, not always. I was weaker then and I didn’t have you. When I have someone to stop for, then it hasn’t worked. She tried something like this not long after I met Josie and I walked out without a backward glance. But after me and Josie split… it was hard for a long time.’

Anders nodded. ‘Are you going to go?’

‘Yes, it’s at Charlotte’s house, it’s not worth offending her, especially when we’ve not got long left of this crap, I can’t tell if the invitation is from her too. I’ll just tell Jane to get stuffed and leave. Charlotte doesn’t come out very much.’

‘You want me to come?’

‘I don’t want you in that house,’ Mitchell said quickly. ‘It’s not a place mortals should ever go.’

‘I’m not a mortal.’

‘Your body is.’ Mitchell shuddered thinking of the place. How to explain to Anders that a staircase decorated with human skull bones was the least disturbing thing about the place? ‘Trust me, you’d throw up within ten minutes, there’s all this gross vampire stuff everywhere.’

Anders nodded apprehensively. He didn’t like the idea of Mitchell going there alone. They’d make him drink one way or another.

‘Whatever happens I won’t kill anyone, I promise,’ Mitchell said, looking gravely at Anders.

‘I know,’ Anders replied, before his phone also beeped, repeatedly. ‘Oh fuck, oh really fuck off,’ he exclaimed.

‘What’s up?’ Mitchell asked.

‘The Lord Odin has called a thing, a skype thing, tomorrow morning my time, which I am required to attend. Oh and now Mike, yes, I know Mike, because Ty’s already told me.’ He texted furiously for a few moments. ‘I bet this is Axl finding out I’m with you.’ The phone beeped again. ‘And yes it is. Jesus, this is ridiculous. Now I have my brothers at 10 am, plus you nipping off to Dracula’s lair.’

He threw his phone at the floor and grabbed a bottle of vodka, but then put it down without opening it. ‘You know the worst thing about you?’ Anders said accusingly, glaring at a confused looking Mitchell. ‘I can’t even drink my way out of this because I know you need me tomorrow.’ He sighed. ‘Now show your fucking gratitude and put some porn on,’ Anders snapped. ‘At least I know where I am with porn.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette for all her help as ever.


	14. Pray for my Sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell and Anders both have dates they'd rather avoid. Can Jane lure him back? And why are the Johnsons so worried about their brother?

**1899 – Enniskerry, Count Wicklow**

‘Hail Mary, full of Grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for our sins, now and in the hour of our death. Amen.’ His mother crossed herself and reached down to stroke her son’s dark curls as he lay in bed ready for sleep. He whispered his _Amen._

‘Ma, why do we pray to Mary?’

‘Why d’you ask that?’

‘James says they don’t,’ he replied.

‘He’s a protestant, my love. That’s why he goes to a different chapel to us.’

‘Oh,’ he said. ‘But why Mary? Isn’t God more powerful?’

‘Of course He is. But Mary is special, she’s Christ’s mother, our mother. And a mother always watches over us, even when we’re dead and gone or she is dead and gone, a mother’s love never dies. They say God loved his son, but there’s no love like a mother’s love.’

‘Will you watch me when you’re dead?’ he asked, eyes wide.

‘Of course I will and pray for you, like I pray for your wee baby brothers and sisters every day, I believe Mary looks after them in heaven.’ Her eyes filled with tears and John lifted himself up from the pillow and wrapped his arms around his mother’s neck.

‘Don’t cry, Ma,’ he said softly.

‘Sorry, lovey,’ she sniffed, holding him tight, breathing him in, the childish softness of his hair and stroking his pale skin. He had her dark brows and cheekbones and her dark colouring, his father had much lighter brown hair.

‘Ma, I’m scared of the dark, can you leave the candle on?’ he asked, his fist tightening its grip on her sleeve.

‘John, you won’t know it’s dark when you’re asleep. Ah, go on then, but don’t tell your father, he complains about the cost.’ She stood up, picking up her rosary beads which she’d lain on the pillow of John’s small bed. It was his pride and joy, a bed all to himself, he didn’t know any other boys who had that. He knew it was because his siblings were dead, but still, it was something. He shared a room with his parents though, he’s heard other children say that in big houses children had their own rooms and were looked after by nannies. John was glad his family weren’t rich and he was never far from his mother and father and he could climb into bed and comfort his mother when she cried in the night for her dead babies.

‘Night, Ma,’ he said, kissing her cheek.

‘Night, John, love you, sweetheart,’ she murmured, kissing his cheek and stroking his hair. ‘Sleep tight and God bless.’

 

**Present**

Mitchell tossed and turned beside Anders, he was moaning and calling out, but Anders didn’t understand what he was saying. ‘Wake up, John,’ Anders called, gently shaking his arm.

‘…full of grace, the lord is with thee,’ Mitchell mumbled, before letting out a sharp cry. ‘Pray for my sins, pray for my sins, no, no, Ma, no, don’t look. No, no, no!’ he sat up suddenly, screaming now, his eyes wide open, unseeing but horrified, sweat making his skin glisten in the moonlight that filtered through the blinds. Anders put an arm around him and Mitchell let out a harsh sob, his whole body shaking.

‘You were saying a prayer,’ Anders said, hushed and amazed.

‘A prayer? What prayer?’

‘Full of grace, the lord is with thee, pray for my sins. Sounds like a prayer to me.’

‘It’s from the Hail Mary.’

‘What’s that?’

Mitchell took two deep breaths and shuddered. ‘Surely you’ve heard of the Hail Mary? Catholic prayer to Mary, mother of Christ.’

‘Right, so why were you shouting it in your sleep? Aren’t prayers meant to hurt you?’

Mitchell said nothing, he sank back down on the pillows and stared at the ceiling.

‘John? Are you ok?’ Anders asked, taking his hand.

‘I was dreaming about my mother,’ Mitchell said finally. ‘I haven’t dreamed about her in years. It was so vivid, as if she was here, in the room with me and she could see what I am, what I’ve done.’ He shuddered.

‘There’s definitely nobody here, just us.’ Anders stroked his hand for a few moments. ‘What happened to your mum?’

‘I don’t know, I never went back. At first Herrick said it would be a mistake, what if I killed people I knew, or what if I was found out? Then I was too ashamed. I know she died before the war, that’s all.’

Anders nodded. ‘You did the right thing, what good could it have done for her to know what happened to you?’

‘She lost six babies, all before they were one, I was the only one to live.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Anders squeezed Mitchell’s hand, he didn’t know what to say.

‘She didn’t want me to go to war, she said I was all she had. She begged me not to sign up, but I was sick of the poverty, there was unrest at home, this was just after the Rising, I thought I’d rather fight Germans than Brits. I didn’t believe it would solve our problems, all that. I should’ve stayed. The war was the worst thing I ever saw, it still is.’

Anders just held Mitchell’s hand. This seemed like another life time, it was another life time.

‘Sorry, look at me, you don’t know what I’m on about, talking like an old man.’

‘Were you in battles?’

‘Yes.’

‘Which ones?’

‘A few. I can’t… I can’t talk about it,’ he said more harshly than he intended. ‘I can’t even now.’

Anders nodded and stroked Mitchell’s hair back from his face. ‘ _Go to sleep,’_ Bragi soothed. ‘ _Sleep without dreaming, go to sleep, my love.’_

Mitchell nodded, and closed his eyes, rolling over and putting an arm around Anders. Anders lay awake watching him, wondering what Jane wanted with him at Charlotte’s house, wondering what his brothers were going to say when they spoke in a few hours. He felt a surge of protectiveness for Mitchell, a longing to keep him away from the other vampires. Some vampires were alright, well, Carl was alright. Some were fun, but nearly all had a darkness and a malign intent towards the world which Mitchell lacked. Anders wasn’t sure if it was their vampirism or just a trait of the ones who survived, but Mitchell was different. In the last few weeks Anders’ eyes had been opened to the world most of them inhabited and he was starting to understand the strength it must take Mitchell not to be like that, not to give in and feed the monster.

~

Anders watched as Mike adjusted the screen again. His three brothers were sitting in a row at a table in Mike’s bar, they looking ridiculous, squashed up so they fitted in the shot, the wooden panels behind them all he could see of the rest of the room.

‘Can you see us all now?’ Mike asked Anders. Anders leaned back on the settee in his flat, the laptop was perched on the coffee table and he was watching Mitchell smoke out the kitchen window, thinking about how beautiful Mitchell’s lips were and wondering how long until he could persuade him to wrap them around his cock again. Anders reckoned half an hour, and he never used Bragi on Mitchell for that.

‘Yeah, as much as I’d ever want to,’ Anders replied, disinterested.

‘Ok, we’re good to go.’

‘Whoppee,’ Anders said flatly. ‘Hey, John, can you stick another coffee on?’ he called.

‘Anders, this is a Thing,’ Mike said. ‘You can’t have your boyfriend there, it’s a family thing, a Thing.’

‘Well, he lives here. Anyway, he’s in the kitchen.’

‘Say hi to him,’ Ty interjected. ‘Hi, Mitchell!’ he called.

‘Ty says hi,’ Anders called to Mitchell.

‘Aw, that’s nice, say hi back and love to Dawn,’ Mitchell said. ‘I have endless sympathy for her now I’ve worked for you too.’

‘He says love to Dawn, doesn’t it make you want to puke?’ Anders said, grinning at Ty.

‘When you’ve done with the messages…’ Mike sighed impatiently.

‘I’m just being polite,’ Ty protested.

‘Yes, but we need to get on. We have things to discuss. When your boyfriend goes,’ Mike said pointedly.

‘Hi, Axl,’ Anders said, ignoring Mike. ‘Good to see you, how you doing?’

‘Good,’ Axl said awkwardly. Anders rolled his eyes.

‘Go on, say it, I can see you’re desperate to ask. Look, I’ll make it easier for you. Yes, always liked guys, fucked loads. But yes, I still like chicks, the technical term is bisexual, that’s when you screw loads of chicks and dicks. Sort of the opposite to you, which is no-fucking-sex-at-all-sexual. And yes, he’s really good looking, ask Ty. Actually ask Dawn, she’s got the major horn for him.’

‘I wasn’t going to ask that!’ Axl protested. ‘Though I don’t know why I’m always the last to know, I am Odin.’

‘Well, almighty Odin, now you know I have the best looking lover in the world, more godly than the gods.’

‘And I’m not bothered he’s a guy,’ Axl continued. ‘I’m not like that. Though I’m not that surprised, I mean you’d shag anything.’

Mitchell came to hand Anders his coffee at this point. ‘He’s got your number,’ Mitchell smirked, bending down to kiss Anders on the lips.

‘Is that him talking?’ Axl asked dumbly. ‘The vampire?’

‘I’ll wait in the bedroom,’ Mitchell said, squeezing Anders’ shoulder. ‘Give you some space.’

‘You don’t have to go,’ Anders said. ‘You live here.’

‘It’s fine,’ Mitchell smiled, walking away.

‘Yes, that was John,’ Anders snapped. ‘Mitchell to you, and not _the vampire_. Christ, there’s more to him than that.’ Anders folded his arms. ‘What’s all this crap about anyway? I have stuff to do.’

‘We’re worried about you,’ Ty said gently. ‘Dawn says you’re running down your business, but the turnover has never been higher. You have three clients.’

‘Yeah, but one is a huge account. Look, take no notice of Dawn. I don’t tell her everything. Though I should clearly have a word about confidentiality.’

‘And there’s the fact you’re dating a vampire,’ Mike said, not unkindly, but seriously.

‘Not this again,’ Anders muttered.

‘Look, just listen,’ Mike said evenly. ‘Ingrid and Olaf say they’re the undead, yes? They’re kind of like demons, from Niflheim.’

‘Ty’s the god of all things cold and dark and he’s a really sweet guy, Axl’s meant to be the fucking all father for Christ’s sake!’

‘Yeah, I know people aren’t like their god necessarily. But some are. You are. I am. And from what Ty says Mitchell is a lovely guy, but still a vampire.’

‘Anders, I want you to know I think they’re being over the top,’ Ty said. ‘I told them he’s a great guy and how he saved Dawn and how well they get on.’

‘Yeah, see,’ Anders scowled.

‘Be that as it may, we’re worried about you. You’re a god, Anders. He’s a demon, in the tales that is… but they do kill people, doesn’t that bother you?’

‘Colin kills people,’ Anders retorted. ‘And what do you think us gods would do, if we got our powers?’

‘What do you think would happen to Mitchell if we got our powers?’ Mike asked pointedly. ‘He could become all vampire.’

‘Do you actually know this or are you guessing or are you relying on the least reliable oracles of all time who are generally wrong or clueless about everything, even on the rare occasions they’re sober?’

‘Ingrid’s been reading up,’ Axl said.

‘She can read? Wow. I’m impressed. Look, you’re just jealous that I’m getting way more sex than any of you because I’m with a hot guy who loves my cock and you’re stuck with that slag of a goddess who’s probably cut your balls off, Axl couldn’t get any to save his life and Ty’s missus fancies John. You don’t have a fucking clue what you’re on about.’

‘Alright,’ Ty jumped in before anyone else could answer. ‘Let’s just leave it there, Mike, you’ve said your piece. Anders knows, what he does is up to him.’

‘Was there anything else?’

‘Yes, your business dealings. Care to explain?’ Mike asked, eyebrow raised.

‘None of your fucking business,’ Anders snapped.

‘Well I researched Arch Investments, your main client. And they have one owner listed, a C Campbell. And do you know what? There’s not a single scrap of information on him,’ Mike said.

‘Is it money laundering?’ Axl asked. ‘If you’re doing something dodgy we need to know, it could affect all of us.’

‘No! No it’s fucking not! Look, Charlotte Campbell is a personal friend.’

‘Must be a very good friend to pay you so well.’

‘I offer a unique service,’ Anders said.

‘I knew it,’ Mike snapped, losing his temper. ‘You’re selling your powers, aren’t you?’

‘No! Well, sort of, but it’s not like that.’

‘What’s it like? Anders, have you any idea how fucking stupid…’

‘Look, Mike, I’ve always used my powers, and you do all the time these days.’

‘There’s a difference between using them and selling them directly to some rich mortal! We don’t tell mortals about god business!’

‘She’s not a fucking mortal! She’s a seven hundred year old vampire! And I’m not doing it for the money, though the money is very nice, I’m doing it to keep them off John’s back, so just back off.’

‘Anders,’ Ty asked. ‘What do you mean keep them off John’s back?’

‘They’re down on him because he’s not drinking blood.’

‘Hang on,’ Axl said. ‘He doesn’t drink blood? I thought he was a vampire?’

‘He doesn’t drink blood because he’s a great guy and he doesn’t like killing people. So I’m using my powers to stop him wanting blood.’

‘Why did nobody tell me this? Axl asked, put out. ‘I am Odin and nobody tells me Anders is using his powers to control vampires.’

‘And I can control them,’ Anders continued, angry and getting into his stride. ‘A room full of the fuckers. I’m getting stronger, and it’s not because the Lord Odin’s getting his powers as you’re about as close to laying Frigg as you are to becoming a supermodel. It’s my power over them making me stronger.’

‘What do you mean?’ Mike asked.

‘The more I do it, the stronger it gets. You know I don’t even really have to use Bragi now on mortals, they just agree with me, it’s fucking brilliant actually. And I spout this Norse crap when I use Bragi on John, seems to work though’

‘Anders, be careful,’ Mike said, sounding worried now. ‘Working for vampires, using your powers. I know this seems a bit heavy, but we’re worried about you.’

‘Well, don’t,’ Anders said. ‘I have John, he looks after me. Anyway, talking of John, I need to see him before he goes out, so going to have to say bye-bye now.’

‘No, Anders, we’re not finished here,’ Mike said.

‘We are. Now off you trot and tell the oracles all about it, I can just see the puzzled looks on their faces. Bye for now,’ he said, waving and smirking at Mike’s annoyance as he shut the computer down before tipping his head back and groaning, feeling the start of a headache at his temple.

~

Mitchell sat in Charlotte’s front room, it was the least strange room in the house, which wasn’t saying much. The curtains were never opened and no mortal who crossed the threshold ever made it out alive and human. He remembered the first time he’d been here with Jane, he’d been terrified. Even Jane had seemed to reign in her behaviour a bit in Charlotte’s house. It was a remarkable house in many ways. Another large Georgian terrace from the outside, but inside part museum, part something from a theatrical dungeon, he half expected wax works to be in each room.

There was a room upstairs filled with dresses which dated back to the 1500s, Jane would spend hours in that room, trying them on, parading around dressed in Elizabethan or Georgian gowns and playing the great mistress like a child in a dressing up box. Mitchell remembered the time, some fifty years ago, that she’d dressed in a lavish Georgian era gown she said was from her teenage years and made him wear a matching men’s outfit (it wasn’t quite matching being some hundred years later than Jane’s outfit, but she seemed satisfied) and they’d danced all evening, Jane teaching him the steps and living out her fantasy of attending high society balls, something she’d never done in her mortal life, which had been spend in misery and servitude.

The entrance to the house was dominated by a large wooden stair case, the walls of which were entirely lined with human skulls. Then there was the red room, which had a contraption not unlike a gibbet which always contained a body, freshly killed and being drained carefully of its blood by a system of tubes and pipes. Mitchell hadn’t left the front room, its’ dark red walls and black leather arm chairs were relatively modern, but the art on the walls was grotesque. Painting of vampires devouring their prey, piles of corpses with a red mouthed vampire standing over them. Explicit sexual images of vampires copulating on the top of coffins, vampires killing their lovers. And Mitchell had been stuck waiting there for an hour and a half.

When Jane finally appeared she was completely naked and Mitchell groaned in annoyance. There was a smear of blood over her breast and her mouth was red and bloody.

‘Really?’ he asked, looking her up and down wondering if Anders had kissed all her skin like he had and wondering if Anders had noticed the scar on her hip and had found out that she loved having her back kissed. Mitchell didn’t resist when she approached him, standing so close he could smell her skin, could lean forward and kiss her stomach, his eyes dropped lower, which she noticed immediately and Mitchell tore his eyes from the dark hair between her legs with some effort.

‘She’s still warm if you want some,’ Jane said, sitting on his lap and kissing him. Mitchell wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, Anders’ talk over breakfast was clearly effective and the taste of blood broke her spell over him. ‘That’s rude,’ Jane said, pouting.

‘So is sitting on my lap stark naked, get off,’ he told her.

‘Prudish now are we?’ she asked, taking his hand and putting it between her legs. Mitchell snatched his hand back and stood up, lifting her to her feet. ‘You’re not as much fun as your boyfriend,’ she said, rolling her eyes.

‘What do you want, Jane?’ he asked, clenching his fist to control his anger, images of her underneath Anders washing over him, of Anders fucking her like he fucked him. ‘And put some bloody clothes on.’

‘You like it when I’m naked, you said it makes it quicker to screw,’ she said, sitting down beside him and crossing her legs.

‘I don’t want to screw you anymore,’ Mitchell replied.

‘Liar. Anyway, there’s a fresh boy upstairs if you’d prefer.’

‘No thank you.’

Jane stared at him and reached for an ornate silver box on the coffee table and opened it, taking out a perfectly rolled joint. ‘Want one?’ she asked, lighting it with matches from the box.

‘No.’

‘Why don’t you like me no more?’

‘Let’s see, you threatened my friends and you’ve dragged my partner into all this, you threatened to make him hate me.’

‘Nah, it’s been going on since the seventies, on and off.’

Mitchell looked at her, shook his head and sighed. Maybe it was best to be honest, finally, with Jane.

‘Because I don’t want to be the person I was when we met, the person I turn into when we’re together. I don’t like that person, I don’t want to be a killer. I don’t like the way you are, Jane. You love it, all of this. I hate it.’ He watched her face, there was a flicker of something then it was gone.

‘Do you drink Anders’ blood?’ she asked, cocking her head to the side.

‘Of course I don’t.’

‘I will. One day.’

‘I’ll kill you before you do,’ Mitchell said, standing over her.

‘Don’t threaten me, John,’ she replied, leaning back and sucking hard on the joint she was holding. ‘It’s funny ‘ow you ‘ate me now, but you’re still looking at me and trying so ‘ard not to want to fuck me. Ah, it’s a shame, we were good together, we could have been great together.’

‘No, no, you’re mad. I am not that person.’

‘John Mitchell, you’re just kidding yourself, wearing ‘uman clothes. It don’t suit you. We both know what you are. You’ve just lost your fire, I blame bloody Herrick. Bored you I reckon. I should’ve taken a closer interest.’

‘What? Look, are we done? Because I’ve got stuff to do, your tits are nothing new and this house is weird.’

‘One last thing, wait here,’ Jane said, putting the joint out in a large crystal ashtray. She got up and left the room.

Mitchell sat down again and put his head in his hands. Anders had been right, it was all personal with Jane. Which made it even more twisted that he’d slept with her, it still clawed at Mitchell, even though he knew it was nothing to Anders, nothing more than a flight of fancy and a test of Mitchell’s love and endurance.

She was back twenty minutes later in a long black dress, it looked like something from the late Victorian period, there was a silver broach at her throat, her hair hung down her back in its familiar messy curls and she held something behind her back. ‘What are you wearing?’ Mitchell asked.

‘Funeral clothes, I wore this to Queen Victoria’s funeral.’

‘And what, this is my funeral?’

She laughed. ‘Not at all,’ she smiled. ‘Oh, Mitchell, I’m not going to kill you.’ She reached up to stroke his cheek. ‘You’re much too pretty to kill. But I have a present for you.’ She brought her other hand from behind her back and handed him a record. It was an old ten inch gramophone record in a white sleeve. On the sleeve his own name was written in blood, in Herrick’s familiar loopy handwriting.

‘What the fuck is this?’

‘Did you know Herrick ‘ad a safety deposit box in a bank?’ she asked.

‘No.’

‘Well, ‘e did and thanks to your little boyfriend we was finally able to get at it. Weird stuff ‘e kept. Passports, cash, the usual, but weird stuff too. This was the weirdest. Anyway, ‘as your name on it, so returning it, thought it was probably of sentimental value.’

‘What is it?’ he asked, suspiciously.

‘I dunno.’

‘You didn’t listen?’ he said sceptically.

‘No. Anyway, as you’re no fucking fun can you fuck off now?’

‘With pleasure,’ he said, turning the record over in his hands, staring at it.

‘Oh, Mitchell,’ she sighed, putting her arms around his neck and straightening his collar. ‘You was always my favourite.’ She stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the lips, her hand quickly going to the back of his head and holding him in place with an iron grip when he tried to pull away. Mitchell did nothing for a few moments then opened his mouth, letting her kiss him and found himself wanting to kiss her back, to pick her little body up and lift those long skirts … he pulled away before that thought could go any further.

‘Bye,’ he said gruffly, walking away, knowing she was laughing at him, her eyes glittering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette for her help :) And thank you to everyone who's stuck with this story. Sorry my updates are erratic and far apart, real life is a bitch at times!


	15. I Am Stretched On Your Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell listens to the record from Herrick and his world falls apart.

Mitchell walked into the flat, still shivering from the cold outside, grumpy from his meeting with Jane and anxious about Anders’ meeting with his brothers, which hadn’t seemed to go that well. He walked straight into the living room, dumping the record Jane had given him on the kitchen table on the way, and snuggled next to Anders, who was sprawled out on the sofa, his second bottle of beer in his hand.

‘You’re freezing, cold as a corpse in fact,’ Anders said, letting Mitchell pull him close and shifting so he was comfortably leaning into him and resting his head against Mitchell’s chest. Mitchell, who still had his hoodie zipped up and kept his gloves firmly on, shivered and smiled at Anders’ joke, feeling his mood lift immediately as he took in his boyfriend’s ruffled blond hair, tight white t-shirt and dimpled grin.

‘Very good,’ Mitchell replied, kissing him. ‘Good job you’re cute.’

‘What did Jane want?’

‘The usual, she paraded around naked,’ Mitchell paused for Anders’ entirely predictable low whistle. ‘Attempted to seduce me with sex and blood, then told me I was boring and I left.’

‘And were you? Seduced by sex and blood?’

‘No,’ Mitchell said, feeling pleased that he hadn’t been.

‘Not even a tiny bit, when she was naked?’

‘No. Unlike you I have self-control.’

‘So you do still think she’s hot then?’

‘No. Oh, I don’t know. In a way, but she’s not what I want. I don’t think about her. I only think about you.’ He got up to get himself a beer and re-joined Anders with a thoughtful expression.

‘What is it?’ Anders asked, moving his legs so Mitchell could sit down before stretching them out again over Mitchell’s lap and settling his head back against Mitchell’s chest.

‘Don’t sleep with her again,’ Mitchell said softly. Anders looked at him, a flash on panic crossing his face for a moment as Mitchell finally spoke the unspoken.

‘I… I…’

‘I know you did it because she’s sexy and all that, and you could, but she is just using you to get at me. And I think the real reason you did it was to test me.’ Mitchell cupped Anders’ face and looked at him intently, Anders lowered his eyes, unable to meet Mitchell’s gaze. ‘To see how far you can push me.’

‘And if I do it again it’ll be too far?’

‘No, that’s not what I mean. And no, it’ll take more than a meaningless fuck to get rid of me.’ He kissed Anders’ forehead. ‘Do not take that as a green light to have meaningless fucks by the way.’

‘Spoilsport,’ Anders said, his voice suddenly uneven. Anders swallowed and looked at Mitchell now, his eyes wide.

‘But not Jane, she’s dangerous, my love. Don’t ever let her make you think otherwise. And we have unfinished business, her and me. I’m not having her wreck what we have.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Anders said, his voice dangerously close to breaking. ‘You know I didn’t…’

‘Of course you enjoyed it. And I know,’ Mitchell said softly, wrapping his arms around Anders and holding him tight. Anders let himself be held for a few minutes, long enough to compose himself, before looking up at Mitchell.

‘My brothers are suspicious about the business, by the way,’ Anders said, deciding to change the subject to something less emotional.

‘Did you tell them? About Charlotte?’

‘Sort of.’

‘And how did it go down?’

‘Not great. Ah, fuck them. Mike’s full of all this crap about you being a vampire. Like it’s any of his business. I think he’s jealous.’

‘Of me?’ Mitchell asked, raising his eyebrows.

‘Of me having loads more sex than he’s getting,’ Anders said in complete seriousness. ‘I mean, it must be shit relying on women; they have periods and moods and get all frigid over stupid things. He’s jealous I have you and we have so much sex.’

‘Anders, how would Mike even know how much sex we have?’ Mitchell asked, incredulous.

‘I told him.’

Mitchell rolled his eyes. ‘Can you not tell your brothers about our sex life?’ he asked, shaking his head.

‘True though, isn’t it?’ Anders asked.

‘What?’

‘We have more sex than with women.’

‘I don’t know,’ Mitchell replied, starting to giggle, curling his hand around Anders’ waist.

‘You’re exactly the person to know. You have over one hundred years of experience with men and women, and even weird periods of celibacy which I guess were all part of your cruel streak, depriving us.’ Mitchell laughed at him. ‘What?’

‘A hundred years? You have no idea what Ireland was like when I was growing up. I did not have sex at nineteen.’

‘Were the women blind or all lesboes?’

‘No, Catholic. Nice girls just didn’t. Do you know what happened to girls who got pregnant outside marriage? Basically your choice was marriage or a prostitute.’

‘So, why wasn’t there some lucky hooker?’

‘Because I … didn’t want to do that. I wanted to marry a nice girl. I was different then.’

‘When did you first have sex then?’ Anders asked, genuinely amazed, lifting his head up.

‘When… when I went to France.’

‘You were twenty-four! Oh my God, that is… Jesus, John, what the fuck?’ he exclaimed as Mitchell gave an embarrassed shrug. ‘This is where your kinks come from, your weird repressed youth. Still, at least you’re making up for it now.’

‘I don’t have kinks! I’m not the one with a box of sex toys and a laptop full of porn!’ Mitchell was laughing though, his hand always on Anders’ waist.

‘John, you like to tie me up, make me beg, suck me off until I come in your mouth, which more or less makes you jis yourself, and you use all manner of toys in ways I hadn’t dreamed of. But you know what I like best? That you still blush when I talk about it.’

‘I don’t!’ Mitchell protested, his cheeks red.

‘You do, I’d tell you to look in the mirror, but you know. Hey, you know you sometimes just hold my hands down when there’s no ties to hand, And I’d never have thought of using that dildo to…’

‘I don’t blush!’

‘You’re red as a tomato. Now shut up, my sweet creature of the night and suck my cock.’

‘You’re a cocky wee bastard,’ Mitchell said, pushing Anders down on the sofa and lying on top of him, pressing open mouthed kisses to his neck and thinking how much more he wanted Anders than anything Jane had offered him earlier. ‘Are you going to behave now?’

‘Well, get those pretty lips on my dick and I’ll think about it.’

Anders laughed as Mitchell pinned his arms above his head and began to kiss him roughly.  He wrapped his legs around Mitchell’s waist and quickly gave in, calling Mitchell’s name when he finally came down this throat.

~

‘Where are you going?’ Anders groaned as Mitchell’s head lifted from his naked chest. He’d been stroking Mitchell’s hair as they lay in bed.

‘Carl’s,’ Mitchell said, reluctantly, looking at Anders stretched out in bed, naked and inviting and running his hand through his chest hair. ‘I wish I could stay.’

‘Then stay,’ Anders said, pulling him back and into a kiss. ‘You know you love my cock way more than Carl’s.’

Mitchell laughed. ‘Yes, but I’ll be back to see to your cock later,’ Mitchell said softly, kissing Anders’ neck and chest. ‘But Carl has a gramophone I need to use and it’s only 4pm so you should probably do some work.’ Mitchell carried on kissing Anders, now reluctant to get out of bed again.

‘I’ve been keeping my employee happy,’ Anders said smugly. ‘You’re always moaning, so I thought a bout of hot sex…’ he stopped talking as Mitchell kissed him. ‘But I do,’ Anders began, pausing as Mitchell kissed him again. ‘… need to make some phone calls, so you can go and hang out in your coffin for a bit with Dracula boy.’

‘I don’t even know why I’m bothering,’ Mitchell groaned. ‘It’s probably a load of crap, or nothing.’

‘What is?’

‘That record Jane gave me. It’s from Herrick, you know, the one who made me. It was his safety deposit box you helped them get into the other day.’

‘And he left you a record?’ Anders asked, sitting up a bit.

‘I don’t know that he left it to me, it just has my name on it. In blood.’

‘Eugh, what is wrong with you people?’

Mitchell sighed. ‘I know. Anyway, it’s been kind of playing on my mind as he wouldn’t have kept it for no reason. I think it’s probably something to blackmail me with.’

‘You think Jane’s listened?’

‘She said she hadn’t, which is obviously a lie. She’d never give it to me without listening to it. So my guess is she’s going to try and blackmail me.’

‘What a bitch,’ Anders said with a low whistle.

‘Yeah, she is. Anyway, I’d rather know as soon as possible what it’s about. Anders, I have to tell you, it’s probably a recording of something, probably me having sex with her and killing someone,’ he whispered, full of shame. ‘She’s probably made a copy and she’ll probably send it to you.’

‘Well, the killing bit is gross, but if it’s you and her fucking, bring it on, that would be hot,’ Anders said, trying to be dismissive. Mitchell gave a sad, grateful smile. ‘Look, John, I’ve seen a lot the last couple of months. There’s nothing that could change how I feel about you.’

Mitchell nodded, wrapping his arms around Anders. ‘I love you so much,’ he whispered. ‘You have no fucking idea how much you mean to me.’

‘Hey, don’t start getting all emo on me, you have cock sucking to do later,’ Anders said, burying his hands in Mitchell’s hair and stroking it and smiling as Mitchell laughed. ‘And look on the bright side, it could be hot porn, you and Jane going at it.’

‘You wouldn’t be jealous?’

‘I’m an open minded guy, besides you could get your lips round my cock, just in case.’ Anders laughed. Mitchell took Anders’ hand and laced their fingers together and smiled.

‘As long as I have you I can deal with anything. You’ve saved me,’ Mitchell said, his gaze adoring and intense. ‘You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, no shushh,’ he said to Anders’ scoff. ‘I’d be dead or worse if it wasn’t for you. One day I’ll make it up to you, I’ll give you anything,’ he whispered softly. ‘Anything at all.’

‘John…’ Anders said, lost for words and squirming. He couldn’t deal with this, Mitchell’s heartfelt declarations of love. Give him piles of dead bodies and policemen to talk out of investigating massacres and he was fine. The man he loved opening his heart? It made Anders want to run for the hills.

‘I know you’re all embarrassed now,’ Mitchell said, sighing. ‘You’re so repressed with your emotions, honestly, I’m amazed you ever even admit you half like me.’

‘You have a hot body,’ Anders shrugged by way of explanation, stroking Mitchell’s chest. ‘Now, stop being soppy and go play that record. If it’s porn record it on your phone and you can suck me off to it later. And whatever it is, remember I don’t care, I still love you.’ He gave Mitchell a grin and grabbed his arse, making Mitchell yelp.

‘You git,’ Mitchell laughed as he smiled and kissed Anders one last time before dragging himself from their bed.

~

‘Are you sure about this?’ Carl asked, pulling the dust sheet off an old gramophone, in excellent condition, now sitting in Carl’s living room. They’d spent ages getting it out of the loft and Mitchell was more and more nervous about playing the record now, sure it was going to be a kill.

‘Look, I need to know what she’s got on me,’ he said, lighting another cigarette and tapping the ash into the now nearly full ashtray.

‘Alright, but can you promise that whatever it is you’ll keep your cool. No going after her and don’t lose it.’ Carl looked hard at Mitchell. ‘Maybe Anders should be here.’

‘No, there is no way he’s hearing that.’

‘He knows about the Box Tunnel.’

‘There’s knowing and there’s hearing it happen. Look, he’s the best thing that ever happened to me, he’s perfect,’ Mitchell said emphatically as Carl looked at him agog. ‘Well, not entirely, but perfect for me. I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone.’

‘Mitchell,’ Carl said gently, sitting beside him and taking his hand. ‘You’ve said that to me a lot over the years. Most recently with Annie, who you couldn’t even make love to and who left you when she found out what you’d done.’

‘Well, Anders knows what I’ve done and we can definitely make love.’

‘And he’s stopped sleeping with other people?’

‘Yeah,’ Mitchell said too fast. Carl raised his eyebrows. ‘Look, I have his heart.’

‘But he shares his cock? Jesus, Mitchell. You’re telling me he’s perfect and in the next breath that he’s still sleeping with other people.’

‘Not people. Just that little bitch, she did it to get one over me because I won’t shag her again.’

Carl let go of Mitchell’s hand and put his head in his hands. ‘Christ, please tell me you’re not saying your boyfriend shagged Jane Adams? And you trust him?’

‘Yes. Look, he has issues with commitment. He’s not used to people sticking around, it’s a test, to see if I love him enough to stick around.’

‘What’s wrong with you? You’re letting him walk all over you. Sleeping with Jane of all people, making you miserable in that damn office, you do all his bloody housework too and run around after him. What’s happened to you?’

‘He saved me, Carl. And I’m working for him because it’s my fault he had to send Dawn home and my fault he ended up working for Charlotte. I would do anything for Anders.’

‘Yeah, I can see that,’ Carl said, unimpressed. ‘You’re a doormat, you’re letting him walk all over you.’

‘It’s not like that. You don’t understand how much I love him,’ Mitchell said, biting his lip, knowing how pathetic he sounded.

‘Letting him treat you badly isn’t love.’

‘He does love me, Carl, he does. I know he doesn’t always show it, but I know he does.’ Mitchell stubbed his cigarette out angrily. ‘Anyway, you’re a fine one to talk.’

‘What’s that meant to mean?’

‘I know what Dan got up to.’

‘That’s low, bringing that up.’ Carl stood up and walked to the window, his fists clenched at his sides.

‘So are you admitting it did bother you? Him cruising when you were together, I mean you knew, even before I almost picked him up.’

‘Of course I knew. It was a thing, look I’m not even going to explain it to you, it’s none of your business.’

‘You got off on it, didn’t you?’

‘Do you get off on Anders with Jane?’ Carl retorted angrily.

‘No. But I can’t blame him for wanting something other than a needy fucking monster.’

‘Mitchell, you’re not…’

‘I am. You know more than most what I am. Look, let’s listen to this fucking record and go get a drink.’ Carl nodded and walked to the coffee table, relieved to change the subject, picked up the record and carefully setting it on the gramophone, delicately letting the needle fall into place as it started to spin.

Mitchell was sat on the edge of the sofa, every muscle tense as the record began to crackle and turn. Carl sat beside him their knees touching, Mitchell grateful for this small gesture of support, despite his bringing up Dan. There was nothing for a minute and Mitchell was about to get up when Herrick’s voice crackled out the speaker.

_‘When you’re ready, just sing like you did in the pub, don’t worry about me or the microphone.’_

He sounded kindly and caring, Mitchell pitied whoever he was speaking to. He guessed this was a professional recording booth, Mitchell vaguely remembered Herrick telling him about spending time scouting for singers in the twenties, joking it was something to fill in the time when Mitchell had first run off with Jane for six months.

‘ _And you’ll tell me after that, what you know_?’ A woman’s voice answered, it was an Irish voice, the accent thick and melancholic. Mitchell gripped the edge of the seat, as if afraid he would fall off.

‘ _Yes_ ,’ Herrick replied. ‘ _One good turn deserves another. Now, you sing one of your songs. Start with the one that made that old man cry_.’

The woman cleared her throat and there was a pause, then she began to sing.

_‘_ _I am stretched on your grave_

_And I’ll lie here forever_

_If your hands were in mine_

_I’d be sure they would not sever_

_My apple tree my brightness_

_It’s time we were together_

_For I smell of the earth_

_And I’m worn by the weather_

_When my family thinks_

_That I’m safely in my bed_

_Oh, from morn until night_

_I am stretched out at your head_

_Calling out unto the earth_

_With tears hot and wild_

_For the loss of a boy_

_That I loved, my dear child_

_So I am stretched on your grave_

_And I’ll lie here forever_

_If your hands were in mine_

_I’d be sure they would not sever_

_My apple tree my brightness_

_It’s time we were together_

_For I smell of the earth_

_And I’m worn by the weather_.’

The singing stopped and Mitchell thought he might fall through the floor, he was dimly aware of Carl’s hand on his arm, of all the blood seeming to leave his head and the world spinning. He could see her standing there, eyes closed as she sung and it was as if no time had passed. It was Herrick’s voice that jolted him back to the present.

‘ _Very good. Wonderful recording, almost brings a tear to my eye_.’

‘ _Will you tell me now, what you know about John_?’ the woman said, her voice wavering.

‘ _Yes, yes, your John. Well, I’m afraid he’s been in a bit of trouble. Got all sorts of vices these days he didn’t want you to know about_.’

‘ _John, he’s alive?_ ’ she asked, incredulous.

‘ _Yes. Big Bad John we call him these days_.’

‘ _What vices_?’ she asked.

‘ _Well, there’s women. And I’ve been told he likes the boys too. And drink, cocaine, the usual. But there’s also this_.’ There was a distinct hiss and Mitchell knew Herrick had revealed his fangs before he heard the screams. The screams went right through him and echoed in his head, he was on the floor, his fists pounding his own head as his own screams mingled with her terrified dying cries of his name.

The record had long stopped when he finally stopped screaming and knelt on the floor, his hand tearing at his hair, too horrified to cry, Carl’s arms firmly around him, both to comfort him and restrain him.

‘It’s stopped, it’s stopped,’ Carl said softly.

‘He killed her,’ Mitchell said blankly. ‘Herrick killed her.’

‘Yes. Who was she? Was it that girl…’ Carl asked tentatively, remembering a girl Mitchell had once told him about who he had been in love with before leaving for the war. Mitchell shook his head.

‘It was my mother,’ he said. ‘It was my Ma.’

Carl said nothing, his mouth dropped open in shock. Mitchell wrenched free of him and lurched to the waste bin in the corner and threw up. He was shaking and deathly pale as Carl pulled him to his feet.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Carl said, utterly lost for words. Mitchell’s face was a terrible thing now, Carl could see the storm gathering and took his friend’s hand. ‘You killed Herrick, remember?’ Carl assured.

‘Not soon enough to save her. She was looking for me, Carl. She knew something wasn’t right. She knew.’

‘How could she have known? They were told you were dead.’

‘She knew. She fucking knew!’ Mitchell cried, his rage suddenly surfacing with a howl of anguish. His scream was terrible and agonised and he pushed Carl hard, sending him stumbling backwards before picking up the gramophone and throwing it on the floor, screaming as it broke, but it wasn’t broken enough. He picked up the coffee table and smashed it on top of the gramophone repeatedly until there was just shard of wood in his hand and Carl was grabbing his arms, calling his name.

Mitchell whirled around, the broken leg of the coffee table in his hand still, eyes black and fangs bared.

‘We can start with you,’ he shouted.

‘What?’ Carl asked. ‘Mitchell, what are you on about?’

‘I’m going to wipe every fucking vampire off the face of this earth, you’re here so we start, with you.’

He brandished the table leg over Carl’s chest.

‘Wait for Anders, Mitchell, you need to talk to Anders, I’ve texted him, he’s coming.’

‘I’m going to fucking kill you all, then I’m going to kill myself! And Anders isn’t going to talk me out of it!’ he raged. ‘I loved her so much, she was the best person I ever knew, she was my Ma!’ Carl tried to put his arms around him, but Mitchell pushed him away. ‘Don’t touch me!’

‘Herrick was an evil bastard, I’m not Herrick.’

‘You know Dan had a mother and so did all the others you’ve killed.’

‘I know, which is why we don’t want to be like that,’ Carl said, the table leg still over his heart. Mitchell shook his head, grief and rage all he knew. ‘Please, Mitchell, I’ll help you.’

‘You can’t help me, there’s nothing left but hell for us, but I’m going to take as many vampires with me as I can, every last fucking one. And when I get that little bitch I’m going to rip her limb from limb, I’ll feed her to the fucking wolves.’

Carl swallowed as Mitchell pressed the wooden table leg harder against his chest. ‘Do it then,’ Carl said. ‘You’re right, we’re a fucking plague.’

Mitchell just stood there, staring at Carl and eventually dropped the table leg, falling to his knees and howling with pain and rage.

~

‘What the fuck is this?’ Anders exclaimed, hands in his pockets as he surveyed the scene. Mitchell was on his knees, Carl was opposite him, arms around Mitchell, speaking to him softly, and the room was chaos, broken furniture in the middle of the floor and the carpet covered in the contents of the ashtray and splinters of wood across the carpet.

Mitchell looked up at Anders, his eyes were red and face a terrible sight.

‘John?’ Anders asked, rushing to his side. ‘What’s happened? John?’

Carl stood up, giving Anders space to tentatively put his arms around Mitchell. Mitchell clung to him, falling into his arms making Anders let out a huff with the effort of holding him up.

‘What happened? Was it the record?’

‘The record,’ Carl said grimly. ‘Was a recording made by Herrick. Of Mitchell’s mother. He killed her.’

‘Oh shit,’ Anders said softly, wrapping his arms around Mitchell. ‘My love,’ he whispered in his ear. ‘My love, shushhh,’ he soothed as Mitchell began to cry, hot tears finally falling as Anders held him.

‘Help me,’ Mitchell said, his voice rough.

‘Of course I will,’ Anders said, stroking Mitchell’s hair back from his face.

‘Help me kill them, kill them all. We need to kill every vampire, then you need to kill me.’

~

It had taken a lot to get Mitchell to come straight home, it was really the weight of his grief and exhaustion that did it in the end. Anders had used Bragi to get him into the taxi and they’d got into bed when they finally got home, Anders didn’t dare suggest a drink, too scared of what a drunken Mitchell would try and do in is present state of mind. They lay in bed, arms wrapped around each other, legs entwined, covers pulled up against the cold.

‘She sung, she always sang, she’s sing sad songs mainly, old folk songs, sometimes hymns. She sang cheerful songs to me. My dad said I was the only one she smiled for. I know that song was for me. It was an old song, I’d heard her sing it before.’ Mitchell paused and Anders stroked his cheek. ‘She had the most beautiful voice, if they’d had X-Factor back then she’d have won hands down. Nah, she was too good for that. She was beautiful too and kind. The best person I ever knew.’

‘You’re lucky. To have a mother like that. Who kept looking for you.’

‘What was your mother like?’

‘Hard. When she came back as Agneta anyway. Elizabeta was just worn down, she left us. She wasn’t like your mum.’

‘I’m sorry, your parents sound awful.’

‘To be perfectly honest Mike’s been more of a parent than they ever were, than dad ever was anyway. And it pains me to give him that much credit.’ Anders laughed at little bit. ‘Did you mum cook?’

‘Yeah, there wasn’t always a lot to cook, but she did her best.’

‘Mine was useless at cooking, worse than you. I wish I’d had a mother like yours.’

‘She didn’t deserve to die like that,’ Mitchell said, starting to weep again. ‘I did that to her, I brought him into her world.’

‘No, you didn’t. You didn’t choose to become a vampire. How could you know?’

‘I should’ve killed myself.’

‘No, please, John.’

‘I still intend to kill every vampire in the world.’ Mitchell spoke calmly, but there was a grit in his voice, a determination that he would do this thing. ‘Then I have to die, it’s the only way. If I don’t I’ll infect someone else and it’ll all start again.’

‘Not you,’ Anders pleaded.

‘I can’t…’

‘I thought you loved me.’

‘I do, I love you more than anything.’ Mitchell stroked Anders’ hair and gently brushed a single tear from his cheek.’

‘But not enough, not enough to stay?’

‘Anders… I can’t live with it, I can’t live with myself,’ Mitchell said, voice ragged and broken. ‘I love you more than anything, but what I’ve done…’

‘ _You will not kill yourself,_ ’ Bragi said.

‘That’s not fair,’ Mitchell wept. ‘You’re keeping me here and every moment is torture. I will never stop hearing her screams. The screams of all the people I’ve killed and their sons and mothers and …’ He buried his head in Anders shoulder and sobbed. ‘Please let me go. Please, when I’ve done this thing.’

‘No,’ Anders replied. ‘No, John.’ His voice was defeated, and as he held Mitchell, feeling tears soak through his t-shirt again, his own tears began to fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Mitchell's mother sings is 'Stretched On Your Grave', I got the song and the idea from the character Grace singing to Tommy in Peaky Blinders, that clip doesn't seem to be on Youtube so here's the version of Stretched On Your Grave https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=95I7t1znYFk and here's a clip of Peaky Blinders with Grace singing a different song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ZKmE36SAgw I changed the lyric slightly in the fic so Mitchell's mother is singing about her child, not a lover. 
> 
> Thanks to Lancette for her help as ever.


	16. Let Justice be Done, Though the Heavens Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell is on the rampage and Anders is worried sick. 
> 
> Also a little bit more about Jane's past.

**1784 – London**

Charlotte had watched the girl since she arrived, she’s heard her first, her cough rattling and echoing around the stairs she swept. She’d heard her coughing in the hall as they ate, earning the small creature a clout around the head from the housekeeper and banishment to below stairs. Charlotte had said nothing, but she had decided in that moment the woman with the pointed face and cruel mouth would die before Charlotte left the house.

Charlotte hadn’t seen that maid again for the next two days and she wondered if she’d died, but she was occupied with other matters, playing the part of the high born lady, listening to everything, saying nothing. The girl didn’t have long with a cough like that, these waifs died all the time. The rest of the house were at church when Charlotte next saw her, scrubbing the entrance hall, which was tiled with black and white slabs of marble, the heavy oak staircase rising above the girl’s pathetically thin body. Charlotte thought they must be the only people in the house.

The girl was mumbling as she scrubbed, a stream of curses under her breath. Charlotte adjusted her elegant gown, a deep red affair set off with delicate jewellery, as the girl began to cough again, this time blood splattered over the floor and not just a few drops. On her hands and knees the girl coughed, blood spraying from her mouth until she collapsed, her pale face almost the same colour as the white marble it lay against.

Charlotte walked towards her, noticing the girl’s eyes following her as she passed a large mirror. She curled up and tensed her body, as if preparing for a blow, but Charlotte just stood there.

‘Are you unwell, child?’ Charlotte asked, not unkindly, bending down a little.

The girl’s breaths rattled, every shallow breath sounded ragged and laboured. She wasn’t long for the world.

‘Let me think,’ the girl snarled in a small voice. ‘I were fucked until I couldn’t walk by that fat prick and his disgusting friend last night, then I were up since dawn skivving after you lot. Now I messed the floor and if I don’t clean it before they get back I’m gonna get an earful from the bitch housekeeper. And I’m fuckin’ dying,’ she started to laugh, coughing some more, blood running out her mouth. ‘Go on, ‘it me, you fink I could ‘urt anymore.’

Charlotte glanced at her curiously. ‘Who fucked you?’

‘’Is Lordship.’

‘First time?’ Charlotte asked, knowing the answer.

‘When I were fir’een,’ she replied.

‘Why are you not at church?’

‘I cough too much, so they told me to stay here. Why ain’t you there?’

‘Priests are cunts, like lords,’ Charlotte replied evenly to the girl’s evident surprise. ‘What do you want to do to him, the one who raped you?’

‘I wanna give him this cough, I ‘ope ‘e dies in as much pain as me. Nah, I wanna cut his fuckin’ prick off and shove it down his throat and choke ‘im,’ she spat. ‘Then I wanna watch ‘em all die, especially that bitch ‘ousekeeper, calls me the whore, as if I do it for fun.’

Another coughing fit cut short her angry tirade, all delivered in a small, weak voice. Charlotte had seen enough, she picked the girl up easily and looked down at her head, now lolling on her arms, wondering briefly if this was like holding a baby. She felt almost as light as a baby. The girl’s dark hair was falling out of the maid’s bonnet she wore, now smeared with blood. Sweet, sweet smelling blood.

‘We don’t have long left,’ Charlotte whispered softly, she could hear the girl’s pulse was weak and could almost feel the life leaving her.

‘What you doin’ wiv me?’ the girl asked.

‘You’re the first person I’ve met in this house I don’t hate,’ Charlotte said softly. ‘You have the spirit I’m looking for. When it’s done, you kill the housekeeper first. Keep his Lordship until last, then he’ll be more terrified than you can possibly imagine and you’ll be stronger than you can dream of.’

The girl tried to laugh, but blood bubbled at her mouth instead. Charlotte quickened her pace and carried the girl to her bedroom. Eventually they reached the well-appointed guest bedroom which Charlotte occupied and she laid the girl down on the bed.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Jane,’ she croaked feebly. ‘What you doin’? she asked as Charlotte began undoing her dress awkwardly.

‘I’m not doing this in a corset,’ Charlotte replied, letting out a sigh of relief when she finally pulled the laces free and could breathe easily. Then she smiled. ‘When you wake up you’ll be better, nothing will hurt and nobody will be able to hurt you again.’

‘Am I dead?’

‘Not yet, and in a way, you never will be now.’ Charlotte smiled again as Jane’s eyes drifted shut, she didn’t see the fangs or soft blue eyes go black. She barely even felt the puncture on her small pale neck.

~

‘Jane, did you leave anyone alive?’ Charlotte asked when she finally found the girl again. Jane was in her mistress’s bedroom, parading up and down in a too big dress, covered in blood. It stained her skin, it was matted in her hair and the front of the silken yellow dress was soaked with it.

‘Just ‘im,’ she said, nodding at the terrified looking man trussed up in the corner, before grinning and returning to kneel at the body of a footman which lay beside the door. Jane lowered her head and drank greedily and for ages from the man’s neck until there was nothing left and her new fangs were tearing at his throat in frustration.

‘I want more,’ Jane said, lifting up her bloody face. Charlotte smiled. The girl was better than she had dreamed of, she’d never known a new recruit to drink so much, so fast and have so little fear or guilt.

‘What are you going to do with that one?’ Charlotte pointed at the man who had now pissed himself and was shaking and whimpering in the corner. Jane cocked her head to the side, pulled a piece of flesh from her teeth and grimaced.

‘I don’t wanna touch the bastard.’

‘Don’t you want to make him suffer?’

‘You kill him.’

‘How did it feel when he first fucked your cunt bloody? How did it feel when he thought he could take you any time he liked, when you buried your miscarriages in the garden at night? He made you suffer, you make him pay.’

Jane hissed, her eyes black and her fangs bared. The man was weeping, screaming beneath the gag now as she approached him, a bloody and vengeful nightmare. Charlotte laughed as she stood over him dressed in her underskirts, her black hair loose down her back, the blood on her skirts was Jane’s work, she had a lot to learn about human anatomy, including how much blood could spurt out of a major artery. Still, she’d learn fast if she carried on at this rate.

‘Do it slowly, Jane. No major blood vessels, no big bites. Let him bleed from a thousand cuts. And here, for his cock.’ She handed Jane a small knife. ‘I would sharpen it, but that would make it quick. Wait a bit before using the knife, but not too long, you don’t want him to lose consciousness first.’

She dropped the knife beside Jane and sat at the dressing table, smiling as Jane grinned malevolently and set to work.

~

It was night when they were ready to leave. Charlotte’s accomplished lies and quick dispatch of a delivery boy had seen off any suspicion, nobody else visited on a Sunday. Cleaning Jane up had been the real challenge, in the end she’d dowsed the girl under the pump. Jane was dressed and packed now, having helped herself to the wardrobe of the family’s fourteen year old daughter. Charlotte had stuffed most of her long curly hair under a hat, promising she’d have her own maid soon.

The last job was laying the straw and oil over the house. It wasn’t easy to persuade Jane it had to be done, especially in her new finery, which she was fanatical about keeping clean, but done it was and Charlotte told Jane to wait in the coach whilst she made a final tour of the house, dropping candles as she went, until the house was aflame and the two women were driven off into the night, Jane’s face pressed against the coach window, watching in amazement as the house she had always lived in turned bright orange, flames consuming everyone and everything she had known in her mortal life.

 

**Present - two weeks later**

Mitchell waited silently, back pressed to the wall, the stake hidden up his sleeve. He didn’t move a muscle.

‘This is a really bad idea,’ Anders hissed.

‘Then you should’ve stayed at home,’ Mitchell whispered angrily.

‘I’m not letting you do this on your own, it’s madness, you’ll get yourself killed.’

‘Not yet I won’t. Now shut up, they’re coming.’

Mitchell slid the stake out his sleeve and watched the door of the flat open. Three people came out, a big fat man with a tattoo on his neck and two women, both wearing long black coats and black boots. One had bright red hair, the other a short blonde crop.

‘That one with the red hair,’ Mitchell whispered to Anders.

‘Cute,’ Anders said.

‘Killed a fourteen year old last month.’

With that Mitchell stepped out the shadows as they descended the steps. He moved fast, was in front of the man, stake in his heart before he knew what was happening.

‘Mitchell?’ the man said, shocked as he looked down at his own chest before his face cracked and turned grey.

‘Sorry, Jim, not personal. But we’ve all got to go now,’ Mitchell said, holding the stake as Jim’s features froze before disintegrating into a pile of dust.’

‘What the fuck?’ the red head cried, before letting out a huff as she found the stake in her heart next. Mitchell then let out a cry as the blonde girl grabbed him and clawed at his eyes. He threw out an arm, knocking her to the ground, bending down, pulling another stake out his jacket and holding it over her heart.

‘Please, Mitchell, please no,’ she whimpered.

‘I’m sorry, Jenny, I really am, but we have to go. We’re a plague. It’s got to stop and I’m going to stop it.’

‘Jane said you were coming back to us, warned us off you,’ Jenny gasped, her breaths coming fast now.

‘Warned you off?’ He then laughed. ‘Are all the vampires after me? That’ll make this easier.’

‘Not in that way, off shagging you.’

Now Mitchell really laughed. ‘Jesus Christ. Anyway, enough of this. Goodbye, Jenny,’ he said, wincing at her frightened face as he forced the stake into her chest and watched as her face cracked and turned grey before falling away into nothing.

Mitchell stood up quickly, gathering up his stakes and shoving their clothing into the bin liner he’d brought. 

‘Come on,’ he called to Anders, bounding up the flight of steps. ‘There’s two in the flat.’

Anders was leaning against the wall, wiping his mouth.

‘Have you thrown up?’ Mitchell asked, unimpressed.

‘You just fucking killed three people!’ Anders cried.

‘Keep your voice down! Vampires, not people. And it’s hardly going to be on CCTV is it? Now shut up and stay there.’

‘You might need me,’ Anders said weakly.

‘What? In this state? This is why I told you to stay in the car.’ Mitchell sighed and ran his hands through his hair. ‘Look, go back to the car, I’ll be back in ten minutes.’

‘I’m not leaving you.’

‘You’re going to have to stop puking or fainting every time I do this. There’s a lot of vampires to get through.’

Mitchell started on the steps, there were two flights up to the flat, it was a dingy block of council flats, all grey concrete blocks and ugly angles.

‘Did you know these now sell for over a quarter of a million quid?’ Mitchell asked Anders in disbelief. ‘An old council flat and you get to live next to Sweeney, Christ on a fuckin’ cross.’

‘That’s London property for you,’ Anders said, panting a little as he followed Mitchell, who was now rapping on the door.

‘Hey, Sweeney,’ Mitchell called jovially as the big Irishman opening the door.

‘Evenin’ to yer,’ Sweeney replied. ‘What can I do yer for?’

‘Can I come in? Kind of cold,’ Mitchell asked, rubbing his hands together.

‘I’ve been warned to steer clear of you,’ Sweeney said doubtfully.

‘Jane Adams? Leave her to me,’ Mitchell said confidently.

‘You back with her?’ Sweeney asked, sceptical.

‘Best buddies. She’s my girl, you take my meaning?’ he winked at Sweeney, a glint in his eye and smiling at the knowing look Sweeney gave him.

‘In yer come then, what can I do yer for?’ he asked, standing aside and letting Mitchell enter. He hadn’t seen Anders and Mitchell was quick to shut the door, not wanting Anders’ pale face and big mouth giving the game away. As soon as the door was shut he pounced and a stake was through Sweeney’s heart before he had time even see it.

Mitchell didn’t wait, he knew that there was another vampire in the flat, sure enough Gary was watching TV in the living room. Mitchell wandered in casually, the second stake up his sleeve.

‘Hay, Gaz,’ Mitchell called. ‘Just here for a little weed.’

‘Mitchell, my man,’ Gary said standing up. He was another Irishman, from Cork originally. ‘How much?’

‘Couple of ounces, Anders is paying,’ Mitchell replied.

‘Where’s Sweeney?’

‘Getting some gak from the kitchen for Anders to sample. There you go.’ Mitchell handed Gary two crisp twenty pound notes and waited until Gary was within arm’s reach before the stake came out, too fast for Gary’s drug addled reactions and in a couple of minutes Mitchell was picking up his money and the stash of weed, before collecting his stakes and heading back to Anders.

~

They drove in silence, Mitchell at the wheel. ‘Why them? They were Irish, I would’ve thought you’d leave your countrymen until last,’ Anders said finally.

‘What cos we’re all such lovely people?’ Mitchell asked sarcastically. ‘They’re drug dealers, they smuggled fuckin’ guns during the troubles.’

‘Right. You shouldn’t be driving either.’

‘Well, you’re in not state.’

‘You’ve barely slept in the last week, when was the last time you slept? Even my powers aren’t working on you. You just stay up on the internet, with your crazy stalking of the vampires.’

‘I’ve slept when you’re asleep,’ Mitchell lied. ‘And it’s not crazy, I’m keeping track of them so I can pick them off in order of danger. I picked up the weed by the way.’

‘Some compensation at least. Look, John, this is madness. You can’t kill every fucking vampire in the world, or even just in London. And they weren’t the most dangerous.’

‘They’re Jane’s associates though and she’s the most dangerous. Look, if I kill enough I’ll be in charge and I can control the rest of them. Might help if you’d man up a bit.’

‘Oh, sorry, the whole mass murder thing’s new to me.’

‘I forgot you were so innocent. How are all those girls you talked into bed against their will?’

‘There’s a difference between a bit of persuasion and killing people,’ Anders retorted angrily.

‘You keep telling yourself that. And vampires, not people.’

‘You’re a vampire and you’re a person. Carl’s a person.’

‘You told me the other day I was an animal.’

‘I was just in shock,’ Anders said, begrudgingly. ‘You’d just staked two people in my office.’

‘I told you I was going to. That’s your phone by the way,’ Mitchell said, nodding at the flashing device in Anders’ hands.

‘I know, I’m ignoring it.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s the office. At eleven PM on a Friday night which means it can only be your ghosty friend, so I’m ignoring it. I’ve had enough. You’ve gone crazy, I have a haunted office and I need a fucking drink.’

‘Ring back and see what he wants, Mr Winston wouldn’t call unless there was a problem.’

‘No. You call him. And while we’re on you being a twat, why haven’t you killed Carl? He’s a vampire.’

‘He’s my friend, and he’s not killing anyone.’

‘And you could’ve staked Jane twice in the last week. She’s been at the office and at the flat.’

‘She’s powerful, you’ve seen what she can do.’

‘Yeah, but you could’ve just put a stake in her back.’

‘I’d lose my temper.’

‘So you went out? These sound like excuses, John. I think, deep down you feel something for her.’

‘Bollocks,’ Mitchell spat.

‘I remember that night I used my powers on her, you know the night you were beaten up by a five foot woman? You picked her up and cradled her until Sweeney came to take her away. You were telling me off for hurting her.’

‘Complete crap. Give Mr Winston a call,’ Mitchell said, slowing down for traffic lights.

‘Call him yourself, I’ve had enough of this,’ Anders snapped, folding his arms. They drove the rest of the way in silence. Anders got straight out of the car and walked off, away from the flat.

‘Where are you going?’ Mitchell called.

‘The nearest fucking pub,’ Anders called, not looking back.

~

Anders was drunk when he got back, Mitchell was still up, though it was past three in the morning. Anders watched him sitting on the sofa, turning the old record over in his hands again and again.

‘I thought you’d be in bed,’ Anders said, concentrating very hard on walking in a straight line as he approached Mitchell.

‘I couldn’t sleep, I was thinking.’

‘Think anything sensible?’

‘When I kill Jane and Charlotte they’ll follow me, the rest of the vampires, it was working in Bristol, until it got fucked up, but it was working, and this time I have you to help.’

‘Help with what?’ Anders said, sitting down next to Mitchell, taking the record out of his hands and putting it on the coffee table.

‘Keeping the others clean.’

‘Forget it,’ Anders said tersely.

‘No, you’re right, it’s too risky,’ Mitchell conceded. Anders rolled his eyes, not bothering to correct his meaning. ‘I’m going to kill Jane last though.’

Anders rolled his eyes again, this time Mitchell saw.

‘What?’ Mitchell snapped.

‘You’ve been telling me what you’re going to do to Jane almost constantly for the last week, you’ve been in the same building as her twice, yet you’ve done nothing. There’s ten dead vampires and not one of them is Jane.’

‘Your point?’

‘My point is you’re either scared of her, which is a possibility, but I don’t think anything scares you anymore. Or, you have more feelings for her than you admit. You’ve known her a long time, John. You must’ve seen another side to her.’

‘There isn’t another side to her,’ Mitchell snapped.

‘That’s not true and you know it. She’s funny and great company in lots of ways, very easy on the eye, nice body, pretty face, great tits, lovely arse. She’s also, I dunno,’ he searched for the right word. ‘You want to look after her at times, maybe because she’s so small and looks young, but there’s something there. Vulnerable, she’s vulnerable.’

‘This is all nonsense, she’s the least vulnerable person I know.’ Mitchell got up and picked the record up, placing it carefully on the bookshelf. ‘Jane makes me sick, I just haven’t decided how to kill her. Anyway, what have you been doing?’

‘Drinking,’ Anders replied.

‘Yeah? You have lipstick on your collar by the way,’ Mitchell said, walking out the room and heading to bed as Anders sighed dejectedly.

~

Mitchell was lying staring at the ceiling in bed when Anders came through and began to undress. ‘I didn’t shag anyone if that’s what you’re thinking,’ Anders said, feeling a lot more sober now.

‘Good to know,’ Mitchell said flatly.

‘Look, I was chatting to this girl, it was just a distraction, from you killing people, and she was a bit keen, all over me.’ He rubbed his hand through his hair. ‘Anyway, it was sort of a laugh, but when she started trying to kiss me I backed off and came home.’

‘Is that really true?’

‘Yes, look, I’ve done more in front of you, when we went out picking up girls, remember? Anyway, I didn’t want to have sex tonight, I just wanted to forget what had happened,’ he said, getting into bed and turning on his side to look at Mitchell who still stared straight up.

‘I want to forget the last one hundred years, trust me, it’ll take more than a quick lay.’

Anders put and arm out and laid it over Mitchell’s chest. ‘I want you, John. And I want you to come back to me, I don’t know who you are anymore.’ He lifted his hand to stroke Mitchell’s hair. ‘You really frighten me when you’re like this.’

Mitchell turned over to face Anders, when he looked up his eyes were black and his fangs bared. ‘I’m a monster, look.’ Anders cringed and Mitchell let his eyes go back to normal, his face etched with worry and grey with tiredness. ‘It’s my fault my Ma died like that. She was terrified, her screams… I’m going to avenge her.’

‘You already have, you killed Herrick.’

‘I’m going to kill them all,’ he said finally. ‘Now go to sleep.’

With than he rolled over away from Anders and closed his eyes.

~

‘And is Mr Mitchell coming in today?’ Mr Winston asked Carl, carefully folding a letter and placing it in a manilla envelope before picking up his fountain pen and writing the address in clear, loopy letters, each line perfectly straight.

‘He’s not feeling too good,’ Carl replied.

‘I miss him, I’m stuck in here with this one,’ he jabbed his thumb towards the kitchen where Anders was getting drinks. ‘So lewd, I don’t know how Mr Mitchell can put up with it after being with that nice Josie, such a come down for him.’

‘Yeah,’ Carl said awkwardly. ‘But you know, he makes Mitchell happy.’

‘He didn’t look happy this week, he looks like a zombie.’

‘He’s pretty upset at the moment.’

‘Because if the heathen god?’

‘No!’ Carl said, in a hushed voice. ‘No, something else, he’s had a shock. Just steer clear of Mitchell at the moment, that’s my advice.’

‘Is he drinking blood again?’ Mr Winston looked up, his face betraying his worry.

‘God no. But he’s pretty upset. He’ll be ok.’ Carl said this but didn’t believe it one bit. He couldn’t imagine how his friend would ever be ok again after hearing that.

Carl sat in Anders’ office feeling uncomfortable. Mitchell would be furious if he found out about this meeting, but Anders assured him that Mitchell wouldn’t be back today, not after their almighty row about Mitchell’s neglected work, which Anders regretted now, but sheer frustration had made him lose his temper. Anders came through now, carrying two bottles of beer.

‘You want to come over here? we wouldn’t want to disturb Mr Winston,’ Anders said, gesturing to the sofas, as he and Mr Winston studiously ignored each other. Carl nodded and followed Anders.

‘So, this is about Mitchell,’ Carl said, taking the beer Anders offered to him. Mr Winston sat at the long conference table with his fountain pen, head down and hard at work, Anders looked at him and deciding he wasn’t taking any notice of them sat on the sofa with Carl.

‘Yeah. Look, he’s completely off the scale, you have to talk to him, get him to stop this madness. Not least because being a vampire, you’re on the hit list, albeit at the bottom.’

Carl sighed wearily. ‘Don’t you think I’ve tried? Mitchell’s been around longer than me and he’s more powerful, I can’t make him stop.’

‘Can anyone?’

‘Charlotte probably, but that would end with him being dead.’

‘Jane?’

‘Possibly. Why don’t you stop him? You can stop him craving blood, you can stop him doing this.’

‘What, use my powers?’

‘Yes!’ Carl said, exasperated.

‘I can’t do that. Not unless he agrees. Look, I don’t know what you think I am, well I know, you think I’m a dick, but I don’t use my powers on John without permission.’

‘Really?’

‘Of course I don’t. I really care about him, this is real for me, I could never betray him like that,’ Anders said, before taking a long swig of beer.

‘I assumed you were and that’s why he puts him with working here and doing everything for you.’

‘No, that’s his innate clinginess.’

‘So you can’t stop him?’

‘I’ve tried, he hardly ever sleeps, he hardly eats. He just spends hours online tracking whoever he’s going for next or he holds that damn record and sits brooding and smoking. We’ve not had sex in days, it’s awful.’ Carl rolled his eyes at that.

‘Has he seen Jane yet?’ Carl asked.

‘No, I have, I’m trying to keep up appearances, he went out when he knew she was coming.’

‘Does she suspect anything?’

‘Acted the same as normal. She probably thinks he hasn’t listened yet. She’ll know it’s him though, when she finds out her mates are dead,’ Anders said. ‘Look, what did his mother say? On the record? Did she say anything we could use to calm him down?’

‘Not really, she just said she was looking for him. She must’ve known something wasn’t right, I don’t know how as Herrick would have written saying he’d died, but maybe there was a mistake. I don’t know, but she just said she wanted to know what Herrick knew about him. It sounded like she was singing as a favour, or payment for information.’

‘What a bastard,’ Anders muttered. ‘I suppose it’s probably a good thing she never found him, in some ways, with what he was then.’

‘I can’t disagree with that, but it haunts me, hearing her die, so God knows how he feels. I’ve no idea what Jane was thinking giving it to him, I always thought she was half in love with him, she’ll never have him back now.’

‘She never would anyway,’ Anders said softly, and thoughtfully. ‘I wonder how long she’d been looking for John for?, His mum?’

‘Probably since the end of the war, I reckon, from what Mitchell says, that record must’ve made in the mid-twenties.’

‘Oh, that is it! Of course she is!’ Mr Winston cried suddenly.

They both looked up as there was a loud thud as Mr Winston’s ledger fell to the floor and he stood up before disappearing into thin air. Anders blinked.

‘I never thought I’d have a ghost as an accountant, he’s so weird, are all ghosts like that?’ he said, shaking his head. Carl shrugged and took a sip of beer. ‘Anyway, what are we going to do about John?’

‘I don’t know, just be there for him, I guess. Mitchell does what he wants, all you can do is be there when he needs us.’

‘He’s going to get himself killed, he hasn’t thought this through at all.’

‘Don’t be so sure. Mitchell wants justice, he can’t kill Herrick again, but he can make sure it never happens again.’

‘You’re in on this,’ Anders accused, his voice rising. ‘You’re going along with it.’

‘I killed the man I loved more than anything,’ Carl said solemnly. ‘We’re not normal people, we’re monsters. We deserve justice.’

‘At what cost?’ Anders cried, standing up and pacing. ‘At what fucking cost?’

‘Let justice be done, though the heavens fall,’ Carl said softly, his eyes far away.

Anders looked at Carl, anger and fear surging in his chest. ‘No, I won’t let him, I won’t lose him,’ he said, tossing his beer bottle down and storming off.

‘Where are you going?’ Carl called after him.

‘I’m going to put an end to this madness.’

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette again x


	17. You're Still a Good Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Mitchell are feeling the strain, but a surprise revelation changes everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette for all her help x

Mitchell lay on the bed he shared with Anders, twitching nervously in his sleep. His head was jerking from side to side and in his mind’s eye his mother was standing over him, singing.

_‘…Calling out unto the earth_

_With tears hot and wild_

_For the loss of a boy_

_That I loved, my dear child_ ’

He was mumbling now in his sleep, telling her he would save her, he would save her from what was coming.

But he never did, he always woke up screaming, seeing himself locked behind a door, unable to get in as Herrick tore his mother’s throat out.

He was sat up in bed now, panting, realising he’d been dreaming. He looked around, it was late morning, he could see sunlight behind the curtains and flinched. There was no Anders, who was probably long at work. Mitchell lay back and wiped the tears off his face on the pillow, then reached for a cigarette, propping himself up a little to light it. He took several deep drags trying to steady his nerves and looked over to Anders’ side of the bed.

Anders was getting sick of it, of him, they’d had an almighty row last night, seemingly about Mitchell neglecting his job, which he was pretty sure he’d quit or been sacked from, hard to tell which. But it was really about everything, about Mitchell quitting life more than quitting his job. Anders was frightened of Mitchell like this, he was frightened of him killing vampires, he was frightened of their features cracking and turning to dust and Mitchell knew from Anders’ nightmares that he was haunted by the same happening to Mitchell one day, one day soon.

By night Anders clung to him, when he wasn’t tossing and turning, tormented by his dreams. By day he was increasingly cold and distant, he looked tired and drawn and drank too much. Mitchell yet again felt a heavy weight of guilt upon him, he’d fucked up yet another life, hurt another person he loved. He heard Herrick’s voice in his head again, _you just keep_ _hurting_ _her_. He’d been talking about Lauren, but it could’ve been pretty much anyone Mitchell had been involved with.

Mitchell reached over to Anders’ bedside table and righted the fallen picture frame. The photo should have been of them both, but Mitchell thought sadly, he was a monster who couldn’t be photographed. Instead it was a picture of the seafront at Weymouth, one of their most memorable and special weekend trips. He wished Anders was with him now, not to do anything, but just to be with, to be warm and take his hand and laugh at his clothes and make Mitchell feel better, make Mitchell feel that being alive was ok.

Mitchell was slower getting up that morning than he had been for days. It was sleeping past Anders that made the difference he thought, nobody to chivvy him, nobody to bother getting up for. He got himself cereal and sat eating it on sofa with the TV on, flicking through the channels, getting increasingly irritated with the amount that were playing up, with nothing but white noise.

‘Bugger this,’ he muttered flicking the TV off and lighting up another cigarette, flicking the ash into his empty cereal bowl, because it all felt like too much damn effort to keep reaching for the ashtray on the coffee table. He was watching the stub float round in the dregs of milk when the TV burst into life again, startling him into almost dropping the bowl.

There was a rush of white noise, then the face of a teenage girl filled the screen. He quickly recognised her as Stacey, a girl who’d died after a road accident due to medical negligence in A&E in 1994 and had haunted the hospital since. She had blonde permed hair pulled back with a scrunchie, wore a denim jacket and was obsessed with Take That, and latterly Mitchell.

‘Mitchell,’ she called, seeming to tap the screen. ‘Mitchell!’

‘I’m here,’ he said, crouching down to the screen. ‘Have you passed over?’

‘No, I just needed to talk to you,’ she answered.

‘What?’

‘I needed to talk to you cos something’s happened,’ she said. ‘What it were, were last night there were all this banging around near the staff lockers and someone called the police and it were that weird old ghost and she were banging the lockers, and anyway, the police came – are you still gay by the way?’

‘What? Yeah, yeah,’ he said dismissively, not wishing to explain or get her hopes up.

‘That’s a real shame. People used to think Take That was gay, but they’re not, apart from Jason, maybe. But I didn’t fancy him anyway, but Mark’s not.’

‘Stacey, what happened, at the hospital?’ he cut in, not wishing to learn anymore about Take That.

‘Yeah, anyway, the police turn up and they was going through all the TV footage, you know CCTV footage and I were watching them, to see what they found. They saw doors opening by themselves, so they’re getting all the automatic doors checked tomorrow as they think there’s a fault, but I were worried there would be more vampires, cos I heard they ain’t all as nice as you, some of them ain’t even hot.’

‘So you think vampires are in the hospital?’ Mitchell said.

‘Well, I thought so, but then I got scared so I went to see Mr Winston as he’s always quite nice to me, even though he thinks that Gary Barlow ain’t a good songwriter, which ain’t true cos he’s won loads of Ivor Novello awards you know.’

‘Great,’ Mitchell said, starting to lose the will to live as she prattled on and he was still none the wiser as to what had made her appear on his television. He watched her pulling at the gold hoops in her ears and took a deep breath.

‘What did Mr Winston say?’

‘He came down to the hospital and he had a look around and he said the doors wasn’t broken and he didn’t think it were vampires, it were that ghost, the weird woman who opens all the doors.’

‘Yeah, he mentioned her.’

‘Well anyway, she’d gone when I got back and the doors had stopped going.’

‘Yes,’ Mitchell said, having no idea where this was going.

‘So, I were thinking, are you going to come back to work at the hospital?’

‘I don’t know, not for the time being. Stacey, what was so urgent you appeared on my TV?’

‘Well, that’s because I were scared of another vampire, or catching you and your _boyfriend_ ,’ she spat the word out, ‘in bed, cos Mr Winston says he ain’t a gentleman like you. He said he wouldn’t say what he were in front of a young lady.’

‘Yes,’ Mitchell said, rubbing his eyes and trying to stay calm. ‘But what did you need to tell me? Are there vampires attacking people in the hospital?’

‘No, there’s no vampires.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

‘You need to come here, you need to see someone,’ she said, suddenly serious.

‘Who?’

‘You better just come,’ she said.

‘Stacey, I’m not coming unless you tell me. Who is it? Is it Anders?’

‘No,’ Stacey said, screwing her nose up.

‘Is it Carl?’

‘Was he your boyfriend?’

‘In the forties, but people didn’t really have boyfriends back then,’ Mitchell said irritably. ‘It is him?’

‘No, someone else. A woman.’

‘Does she have dark hair? Long curls?’

‘I suppose so,’ Stacey answered.

‘Shit,’ Mitchell muttered. ‘Just stay away from her, I’ll come,’ he muttered, groaning to himself. ‘Now could you get off my TV please?’ he asked, fed up and angry. So bloody what if Jane was at the hospital? She wasn’t his responsibility.

‘Yeah, soz,’ she said. ‘Look, meet me by the staff lockers, I’ve made sure yours is still free if you want to use it.’

‘Cheers, I’ll see you in a bit,’ Mitchell said glumly, before nearly jumping out his skin as he saw Mr Winston standing over him.

‘Stacey, get out of the television,’ Mr Winston snapped at her. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Mitchell,’ he said, turning to Mitchell. ‘I came as soon as I could and I did not tell her to do that. Did she tell you?’

‘Yeah, I’m just coming,’ Mitchell groaned.

‘That is disgusting,’ Mr Winston said, taking the cereal bowl he’d been using as an ashtray and putting it in the kitchen. ‘Well, lad,’ he snapped returning. ‘Don’t just sit there, go and smarten yourself up, you look like a vagrant. I’m not going anywhere with you like that.’

‘I’m not getting dressed up for Jane, it’ll give her ideas,’ Mitchell said.

‘Jane?’ Mr Winston asked, his face creasing in confusion. ‘We’re going to meet someone, I don’t know what Stacey said, but it’s not that little devil. I realised when I heard Anders and Carl talking this morning.’ Mitchell looked up at him with confusion.

‘Anders has met Carl?’

‘Yes, they’re worried sick about you. But I heard what had happened and it all fell into place, I went to check and I was right. Now stop gawping at me and get ready.’

~

Mitchell scowled as he walked through the back entrance of the hospital, the door opened for him by Stacey. ‘Hi,’ she said, twirling at strand of hair in her finger. ‘You look nice,’ she added, looking him up and down.

‘Stacey, he looks like a goth at a court appearance,’ Mr Winston snapped at her, shaking his head at Mitchell’s black attire. He’d worn a black shirt and jeans as they were the smartest he owned. ‘One thing I agree with Mr Johnson about is you should wear a suit,’ Mr Winston added.

‘Yeah?’ Mitchell snapped back. ‘He only wants me to wear a suit to fulfil his fantasy of ripping it off me or fucking me in it. I didn’t know you were so keen to collude with his kinks.’

Stacey let out a little squeak. ‘What is wrong with you?’ Mr Winston berated him. ‘You’re being thoroughly unpleasant. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were feeding again.’

‘I’m not,’ Mitchell said. ‘I’m just pissed off at being dragged away from important business for some nonsense.’

‘Using a cereal bowl as an ashtray is not important business. Now, I want you to stop scowling and listen very carefully,’ Mr Winston said in his precise voice.

‘Just get on with it,’ Mitchell said.

‘Can I go get her yet?’ Stacey asked. ‘We’ve had a chat now and she thinks Mark Owen’s handsome, I showed her a picture you see. She calmed down a bit when we was chatting, I told her she can listen to their music next time, I’ll find us an empty room with a computer and we can watch them on Youtube.’

‘Stacey, be quiet,’ Mr Winston said, holding a hand up in her direction.

‘We’re going to go up to ward 39 on the top floor, it’s not being used as it’s due to be deep cleaned.’

‘There was an outbreak of MRSA,’ Stacey explained. ‘Be careful not to touch anything, I won’t go up there myself, not worth the risk.’

‘Stacey,’ Mitchell said in amazement. ‘You’re already dead. We’re all already dead. I don’t think we need to worry about MRSA.’

‘Oh yeah,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Still people died.’

‘I refer you back to the bit where we’re all already dead,’ Mitchell said, shaking his head.

‘You stay here, girl,’ Mr Winston said, sighing and shaking his head at her. ‘Mr Mitchell, come with me.’

They said nothing as they walked along the endless corridors, took two different lifts and walked some more until they made it to the top floor of the maze that was the hospital. The door to the closed off ward 39 was locked. Mr Winston vanished and Mitchell could then see him through the glass fiddling with the lock and in a few moments it was open.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I forget you can’t get through.’

‘Are you going to tell me what I’m here for now, it really better be important. I have stuff to do,’ Mitchell said, still scowling.

‘She’s here somewhere,’ Mr Winston said quietly. ‘Come with me.’ He started walking down the main corridor of the ward, looking in the bays. ‘Ellen?’ he called. ‘Ellen, are you there?’

There was nothing then Mitchell heard a door open. ‘John?’ a voice called into the door to a side room. ‘Are you there, John?’ she asked again. Mitchell’s pace quickened and he watched a woman in a long black skirt with a brown coat and hat close the door, she wasn’t solid though, she was fading as ghosts do when their anchors to the world disappear. Her clothes weren’t from this era, they were from one hundred years ago and he knew them, he remembered that hat. His breaths started coming faster and he almost tripped as he made his way towards the dark figure. Her hair was in an untidy bun at the back of her head, but there was a strand around her face, it was tinged with grey, which he didn’t remember and her eyes were more hooded, with darker circles underneath, but those eyes were the same as his, the same dark brows, the same cheekbones.

Mitchell tried to speak, but found it surprisingly difficult to make a sound. He cleared his throat and she looked up, her mouth falling open as she did.

‘Ma,’ he said faintly. ‘Ma?’

The next thing Mitchell knew was he was being almost knocked off his feet by a woman now as solid looking as any living person. She wrapped her arms around him, fisting the back of his jacket and burying her face in his chest. He didn’t know how long he held her for, how long they looked at each other for before tears blinded them both or how long it took them to stop crying. He just knew that she’d found him at last, his mother had found him.

~

They sat in the empty day room in the closed off ward, chairs pulled close together and facing each other, their hands clasped together.

‘How did you know?’ Mitchell asked. ‘That I wasn’t dead?’

Ellen Mitchell stroked her son’s long fingers, she’d taken off his ever present gloves so she could touch his skin. His hands hadn’t changed, but for the rings he wore, which she found strange, but then everything he wore was strange, never mind his hair, which was wild and ridiculously long, but she’d noticed this wasn’t uncommon these days.

‘When your father died I found another letter,’ she said, her voice strained at the memory. ‘It was an official letter, sent after the one that said you’d died. It said you’d deserted. I knew that wasn’t right, I heard about people having shell shock and that, but I knew you wouldn’t leave other people to die and save yourself. Your father had kept it from me to spare me. But when he’d gone I made some enquires, as we’d had two letters, which wasn’t right either. It turned out nobody had heard of the Mr Herrick who signed the one saying you’d died. So I began to trace him, to find out what had happened to you. I had nothing left, but the tiniest glimpse of hope that you were alive.’

Her eyes welled up and Mitchell squeezed her hands. ‘Go on,’ he urged her, needing to know.

‘It took me months of searching, I sang in pubs to make money, I sold everything we owned. I got a boat to England and I managed to trace him in London. I heard he drank in a pub in Shoreditch so I arranged to sing there and I found him. He found me in fact, I think he knew as soon as he saw me who I was. He was very charming and a perfect gentleman.’

‘Yeah,’ Mitchell scowled. ‘He was good at that.’

‘Anyway, he invited me to record my singing, said he scouted singers and if his bosses liked my singing I could make some money, he also promised to tell me about you. He said he knew you, you see, and that he’d heard of your whereabouts.’

‘I heard the recording.’

‘Oh sweet lord,’ she said, crossing herself. Mitchell winced slightly as she made the sign of the cross.

‘You know what he was then?’

‘He was the one who made me, Ma,’ Mitchell said softly. He hesitated before saying it. ‘Made me a vampire.’

She nodded. ‘I know what you are.’ Her voice was even, he wondered how long she had known. ‘What happened to him?’

‘I killed him,’ Mitchell said simply. She nodded.

‘When I passed over, I looked for you. I expected you’d be there with your father and the little ones, but you weren’t, they’d never seen you. So I started to look for you, I looked for decades, I went in so many doors and I’ve met so many of the people you killed,’ she said, her eyes shining with tears. ‘That’s how I knew you hadn’t passed over, that I was on the wrong side to find you. Sometimes there were long periods where there were no new ones, but sometimes so many, John.’

Mitchell hung his head in shame, he couldn’t look at his mother.

‘I told them what you were, that it wasn’t you, it was this monster. That the real you, the real John Mitchell was the gentlest, kindest man,’ she said, stroking his cheek. ‘I know your heart.’

‘My heart is darker than you know, the war changed me,’ he said, voice choked. ‘Even before…’

‘You’re still a good man. A boy I met, Dan, he knew you. He said you didn’t want to be like that, you didn’t want to hurt people, he told me how you’d helped his friend.’

‘Dan?’ Mitchell said, looking up.

‘Yes, he was one of those homosexuals, but very nice. Lots of them are, you know. He’d been killed by his lover, but he wasn’t angry. He was just sad, he missed him.’

‘I knew him, I know his lover, he’s my friend, Carl.’

‘Yes, that was his name,’ Ellen said, with a small smile.

‘Ma, I need to ask, how did you get out, from that place?’

‘You came for Annie and I heard you and felt you. As soon as you were there I could feel you there. Oh, my boy, you were so brave going there to get her,’ she squeezed his hands again. ‘They were very cross with Annie, because she’d refused to come, refused her door. They could have got you too.’

‘I didn’t see you,’ he said.

‘You went just as I got there, I knew you were alive though and I knew you were still a good and brave man. And I knew the dead could go back through a door, I never knew that before.’

‘Oh, Ma,’ Mitchell said softly. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘What are you sorry for? None of this is your fault. You were made into something and you fought it, you fought back because you have a good, kind heart.’ She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. ‘I waited for the next door and slipped through, because I knew where you were, I knew you were alive and still my son, still the man I knew.’

‘You thought I’d become like him, didn’t you? Like Herrick?’

‘I didn’t know,’ she admitted. ‘But I knew from Dan you worked in a hospital in Bristol so that’s where I went, of course it took me a while to find out you’d moved to Wales, then moved again. I thought I’d never find you.’

‘Oh, Ma,’ he said, pulling her into a tight hug. ‘You found me, and I’m clean, I have been for ages. I’ve not touched anyone since … for a really long time. And I won’t ever again.’

‘That’s good,’ she said in a tone that suggested she didn’t quite believe him.

‘No, really. I have a friend. This is going to sound mad, but he’s the reincarnation of a Norse god, Bragi. Bragi is the god of poetry and he has powers and his power is that he can bend people to his will using his words.’ Mitchell said all this very fast. ‘He’s using his power to talk me out of wanting blood. And it works. I don’t want blood anymore.’

‘A god? Goodness me, John. Well, I suppose we never believed in vampires either, yet here you are.’

‘He’s a very good friend, his name is Anders, he’s amazing, you’ll meet him. He saved me.’ Mitchell’s eyes shone as he spoke about Anders.

‘He’ll be able to see me?’ she asked.

‘Yes. Ma, he’s the best man I’ve ever met,’ Mitchell said reverently.

Ellen looked at him slightly askance, then smiled. ‘I’ll look forward to meeting him,’ she said.

Mitchell hugged her again, hardly able to believe it. All thoughts of Jane, vampires and revenge had vanished from his mind. He simply wanted to be with his mother, not soil her world with the violence and malice of vampires. He felt a rush of guilt thinking of Anders and his frightened, sickened expression when he first saw Mitchell stake someone. He needed to make it up to Anders. What he would do about the vampires seemed unimportant now.

Outside the sun was setting, the room they were in was growing dark, only lit by the orange glow of lights outside.

‘We should be getting home,’ Mitchell said, looking out at the street lights and a gibbous moon.

‘Where do you live?’ she asked.

‘I share a flat in the Docklands with Anders,’ Mitchell replied.

‘The docks? Are you crazy?’ she said. ‘John, you don’t need to live in the docks, with all that noise and strange people.’

Mitchell gave a little laugh. ‘No, it’s different now, they’re not actually working docks anymore. They’re all tarted up for rich business types.’

‘Is Anders a business type?’

‘He has his own PR firm.’

‘What’s PR?’ she asked.

‘Public Relations, er, saying nice things about people basically.’ Mitchell smiled, standing up. ‘He’s really good at it, especially with his powers, though not just because of that. He’s very smart.’

‘Is he now,’ she said, standing up and taking his arm. ‘Does he dress strangely too?’ she asked, plucking at Mitchell’s sleeve.

‘He dresses differently to me,’ Mitchell said. ‘More of a business suit type.’

‘Do you have a business suit?’ she asked.

‘Yes, he made me get one, I work for him you see.’

‘Oh, John, an office job, that’s very smart. You should cut your hair, I know lots of men have it long now, but it doesn’t look so smart and you have a lovely face.’

‘Ma!’ he cried, laughing. ‘You’ve spend ninety odd years looking for me and one of the first things you tell me is to get a haircut!’

‘And shave, you’re not a common labourer. Does this Anders have long hair?’

Mitchell threw his head back and laughed. ‘Oh, Ma,’ he said full of affection. ‘No, he has short hair, you’ll be pleased to hear.’

~

Anders sat in the sofa and threw back a second shot of vodka. He looked at his phone for what felt like the millionth time. Nothing. There’d been nothing from Mitchell for hours and he was worried sick. He was giving it five minutes before phoning Jane, if something had happened to him she’d know. If not he’d pretend it was a booty call and go and screw her and that would teach Mitchell to disappear on him and make Anders think he was dead. He sighed and typed out another text. _Where are you? REALLY worried, call me A x_. Anders then poured himself another vodka and, to his surprise, heard his phone bleep.

_Sorry, nearly home, make sure flat decent. In taxi can you meet me outside with fare. Love you xxx_

_Where are you?_ Anders typed back.

_About 5 mins away. Hide anything that isn’t decent, I have someone with me,_ came Mitchell’s reply.

_What do you mean decent? Who are you with?_

_Don’t have porn paused etc,_ Mitchell sent back, quickly followed by: _Don’t swear either. Love you lots xxx_

Anders shook his head and scanned the flat, he wondered if Mitchell were drunk or if he had enlisted a priest in his quest to wipe out vampires and shuddered at the thought. Anders knocked back the vodka in the glass and headed downstairs to meet Mitchell.

The taxi pulled up outside the building and Anders could see Mitchell in the window, smiling at him. Anders felt the knot in his chest ease somewhat on seeing his face, which was relaxed and happy in a way it hadn’t been since hearing that awful record. Anders walked to the driver’s window and leaned down to pay the fare as the cab pulled up as Mitchell got out the back. When Anders turned around, having waited for a receipt (sod paying fifty quid out his own pocket, he was putting it on the expenses for Charlotte’s account) Mitchell was standing there, smiling and on his arm was a woman in a long dress and brown coat and hat. Anders could see immediately that she was a ghost, the clothes were a give away, they looked something from the early twentieth century, but also he and Mitchell seemed to be the only ones who could see her.

Anders looked at her under the street lights, she had dark hair, flecked with grey, her brows were dark too and so were her eyes, giving her a striking appearance. She was an attractive woman, with full lips and sharp cheekbones. Anders continued to look at her and watched the gentle way Mitchell offered her his arm and smiled softly at her before looking up at Anders.

‘This is Anders,’ Mitchell said, giving Anders a warm smile. ‘And this,’ Mitchell said, looking at Anders, who knew what he was about to say as two identical sets of hazel eyes looked at him. ‘Is my mother, Ellen.’

‘Fuck,’ Anders said. ‘Your mother? Oh, fuck,’ he breathed.

‘Anders,’ Mitchell gritted, giving him a death stare.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Anders immediately corrected himself. ‘Just a bit of a shock, because you’re dead and that. Nice to meet you,’ he said to Ellen, shakily holding out his hand and feeling as if a cool breeze had blown over his fingers when she took it. His immediate thought was that Mitchell would have had a cold dick if Annie had jerked him off, before he tore that jealous thought from his mind and stared at the present threat to his place in Mitchell’s heart.

They made their way up to the flat, Mitchell explaining to his mother how this was a very fashionable area and how successful Anders was to be able to afford it. Anders said nothing, he was somewhat shaken. Happy as he was to see Mitchell snap out of his depressive, murderous rage, he was also acutely aware it wasn’t him who’d been able to bring him round. Apparently there was someone else who was now first in his affections.

Mitchell showed Ellen around the flat, to much praise and astonishment on his mother’s part, avoiding the bedrooms, confirming Anders suspicion he hadn’t told his mother the exact nature of the relationship, while Anders was politely welcoming, but uncharacteristically quiet.

‘This is so modern,’ Ellen said softly to her son as they sat down on the sofas, Anders pouring wine for himself and Mitchell.

‘Where do you sleep, or like to go at night?’ Mitchell asked.

‘I don’t sleep, I’ve been looking for you, you see,’ she answered, following his lead and sitting on the sofa. ‘I wasted all that time looking for you on the other side, so I didn’t like to sleep.’

‘You should try and sleep,’ Mitchell said. ‘It would do you good, we have a spare bedroom you can go in, I’ll make the bed up nicely for you.’

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Are you sure it’s ok with your friend?’ she mouthed at Mitchell when she thought Anders wasn’t looking.

‘Yes, it’s fine isn’t it, Anders?’

‘Yeah, make yourself at home,’ Anders said with a strained smile, trying to catch Mitchell’s eye.

‘Thank you. You look exhausted,’ Ellen said to her son, picking up his hand and looking closely at his red eyes and pale skin. ‘You should go to bed, you’ve had a long day.’

Mitchell nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion, of the last three weeks, washing over him.

~

Mitchell had made a great fuss of settling his mum in the spare room and making up a bed she would never sleep in, been at pains to show her where all the things in the kitchen and bathroom that she wouldn’t need were kept and they’d held each other long and tight before Ellen shut the bedroom door and Mitchell finally collapsed into his own bed, beside Anders.

‘John, did you tell her about us?’ Anders asked as he got into bed.

‘She knows I think the world of you and she’s probably worked out there’s only two bedrooms, one of which is a spare room.’

‘So you didn’t tell her.’

‘Anders, she died in 1925! I can’t just go ‘and by the way I’m gay.’ Things were different then.’

‘So, what does she think I am to you?’

‘Look, we don’t need to say anything. She spent nearly one hundred years looking for me, she knows I’m a vampire, she knows you’re a god. I somehow don’t think the fact we’re sleeping together is going to bother her too much.’

‘Ok.’ Anders didn’t have much more to say. He’d already had the story of how Ellen had searched for her son for years and suffered years of torment, knowing what he was, unable to help him, until she learned from Annie’s experience she could cross back into the world of the living.

‘Anders,’ Mitchell said softly, slipping his arms around him. ‘Are you happy for me?’

‘I am,’ he said truthfully. ‘And I’m relieved you’ve snapped out of your madness. I take it that’s finished now?’

‘I don’t know, I don’t know what to do.’

‘Drop your crazy plan, go back to my sensible plan and pray that Little Miss No-Knickers doesn’t twig. Oh and buy Anders dinner to make up for being Buffy the fucking Vampire Slayer for the past fortnight.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Mitchell said kissing him and stroking his cheek. ‘I don’t know what’s happening now. I can’t just leave them the way they are though.’

‘You can’t change the whole world, John. Just look after yourself and forget about them.’

‘Anders… you can’t just forget about a bunch of murderers running around unchecked.’

‘You’ve managed until now. Well, anyway, night,’ Anders said, kissing Mitchell on the lips before rolling over to pick his phone up from his bedside table as it beeped.

‘Who’s that?’ Mitchell asked, yawning.

‘Nobody, just a stupid pizza offer,’ Anders lied, staring at the screen, where Jane’s name had flashed up with a short message, but one that made Anders’ hair stand on end and his skin crawl.

_I know what Mitchell’s done_

Mitchell yawned and snuggled up behind Anders, spooning him with a hand splayed over his chest as he quickly fell asleep while Anders lay awake, wondering what the hell would happen now.


	18. Who Hasn't Walked in on Their Kids Having Sex?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders has a mother-in-law and she's a ghost to boot. How will the boys adjust to their new house guest?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went slightly crazy half way through this and wrote pure porn, you're welcome. So basically some porn with a bit of plot either side ;)
> 
> Thanks again to Lancette for her help.

**One week later**

‘What’s this?’ Anders asked, staring at the huge bunch of flowers in Mitchell’s arms as he walked into the kitchen. ‘For your mum?’

‘For you,’ Mitchell said, blushing and thrusting them towards Anders. ‘Sorry, I know you’re not a flowers person, I just wanted to say sorry, for everything. And thanks, for letting mum stay.’

‘Flowers?’ Anders asked, eyebrows raised.

‘Sorry, just stick them in the office.’

‘Well, I’ve never been brought flowers before, but they’re nice.’ Anders was surprised to find himself pleased with them. He blushed too and they looked at each other awkwardly. Anders put the flowers on the table. ‘Do we have a vase?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Mitchell answered as Anders began opening cupboards. He watched Anders for a few moments before going up to him and putting a hand on his shoulder. Anders felt the weight of it, felt the way his fingers squeezed lightly and felt the swooping in his stomach at Mitchell’s touch that had once been so familiar.

‘John,’ Anders breathed, trying not to fall into his arms and let him be forgiven so easily. ‘John…’

Mitchell turned him around and cupped his cheek and Anders resistance melted away as Mitchell held him with an intense, loving gaze. ‘I know it’s too much to ask you to forgive everything, but I am so sorry and I love you so much, more than I can ever tell you.’ He stroked Anders’ cheek. ‘You sticking with me through all this means everything, I’m going to make it up to you, my love,’ Mitchell whispered, before kissing Anders softly.

‘It’s ok,’ Anders said, hating himself for his weakness even as the words left his mouth. Because it was true, Mitchell could do anything it seemed and Anders would forgive him, which meant Anders must love him even more than he realised, a more terrifying thought than anything a murderous Mitchell could conjure up. But then Mitchell was kissing him and wrapping Anders in his arms, holding him close and his hands were pulling his shirt out, running up Anders’ sides and thinking was no longer required.

They were starting to press close, so Anders could feel Mitchell growing hard and Mitchell’s hands were everywhere at once when the front door banged shut and Ellen appeared. Anders leapt away from Mitchell and straightened his shirt.

‘Nice walk?’ Mitchell asked his mother, wiping his wet, kiss swollen lips on the back of his hand as he went to stand beside Anders and putting a protective arm around him, gazing at him adoringly again.

‘Lovely day, but some very strange people about,’ Ellen replied. ‘I thought I’d do the ironing now, I don’t want to miss that lovely house programme.’

‘ _Homes Under the Hammer_?’ Mitchell asked, his mouth dropping opening and a look of incredulity on his face.

‘Yes, that’s it, it’s very exciting. I’m going to iron on extra steam setting today. I’ve been a bit nervous of trying it, especially on Anders’ lovely suits, but I think it’ll be ok on your shirts, lovey, they’re falling apart anyway. Oh, that reminds me, if you buy me a needle and thread I’ll mend that hole in your socks.’

‘I’ll buy new socks,’ Mitchell said, laughing.

‘What, new socks because of a tiny hole? John are you made of money?’ Mitchell shrugged and Ellen rolled her eyes at him. ‘They’re lovely flowers, you have a vase under the sink, or are they for someone else?’

‘They’re mine,’ Anders said, surprising himself. ‘John got them for me.’

‘They’re beautiful, see I always said he was a romantic soul. Do you want me to arrange them for you?’

‘Yeah thanks,’ Anders said, smiling softly as Mitchell beamed at him and squeezed his shoulder. 

**Four weeks later**

‘Thanks for meeting me,’ Anders said, sitting down opposite Carl in a booth of a pub in Shoreditch. It was dark and the floors and walls were wooden. It sort of reminded Anders of Mike’s bar, but this building was much older than anything in New Zealand and darker in that way of old British pubs. He opened the screw top bottle of red wine he’d brought from the bar and poured Carl a glass.

‘New Zealand’s finest,’ Anders said, raising his glass.

‘Cheers,’ Carl replied with a smile. ‘So, what’s all this about? Or are you just escaping from your mother-in-law?’ Carl stifled a snort of laughter.

‘Don’t fucking start. Honestly, I have the worst luck. Boyfriend’s a vampire, mother-in-law a bloody ghost, you couldn’t make it up. One of the things I liked about Mitchell was he had no irritating family members around to fuck things up. Do you know she broke a four hundred quid coffee machine?’

Carl did laugh now. ‘How?’

‘I have no idea. And we’ve only had sex twice since she came, in the office. God, my balls are going to explode!’ he said, taking a long slug of wine. ‘I have no idea how long she’s going to be here for, Mitchell’s all happy, which is nice, but not if I die of lack of sex.’

‘Anders, people can live without sex,’ Carl said, rolling his eyes.

‘Not me.’

Anders shook his head and drained his glass, before pouring another. ‘It’s alright you laughing, you’re not living with it. She came into our room to put clothes away at seven A.M. the other day. She said she heard the alarm go. I could’ve killed her – again – he had a boner like you wouldn’t believe.’

‘Oh, I would believe,’ Carl said, raising an eyebrow at Anders.

‘Ok, you would, but let me tell you it disappeared pretty fucking fast when she popped up.’

‘Look, you have to be patient,’ Carl said, trying to be serious. ‘They’ve not seen each other for nearly a century, she’s spent years thinking her beloved son is a demon and then years searching for him, it’s probably sent her a bit loopy.’

‘Too fucking right,’ Anders agreed.

‘And Mitchell’s been thinking the last thing he’d ever hear of her were her terrified screams.’

‘I know,’ Anders sighed. ‘It’s just she’s there all the fucking time. And no other bugger can see her, except you and Mr Winston.’

‘Mitchell said she likes you,’ Carl said. ‘Honestly.’

‘Well, how could she not?’

‘Well, you’re not everyone’s cup of tea,’ Carl shrugged. ‘Look, I like her.’

‘So do I,’ Anders conceded. ‘She’s not what I expected, she loves everything modern, she tells Mitchell off for being old fashioned. She’s discovered the microwave now and thinks it’s the best thing ever. It’s quite useful actually as she does all the cooking and ironing. She irons our pillowcases, she’s obsessed with the bloody iron and everything else electrical. And she spends hours watching television too, all this daytime TV and soaps. She says she’s learning about modern life. And when she’s not doing ironing she knits, she’s threatening to knit me a fucking jumper.’

Carl laughed at that. ‘What’s she making now?’

‘New gloves for John. He’s dead pleased.’ Anders thought of Ellen sitting upright on the sofa knitting and Mitchell sitting on the floor by her feet, hugging his knees, his head resting gently on her knee as they spoke quietly. He knew without asking this was how they’d sat at home, all those long years ago. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d found them like that, sometimes deep in conversation, other times in companionable silence, once Ellen had been stroking his hair and Mitchell’s eyes were red from crying. Anders had gone to the bathroom, pretending not to have seen.

‘He never spoke about his family, ever,’ Carl said thoughtfully, swirling the wine in his glass.

‘He mentioned them once or twice, but only after I’d started doing my thing to stop him wanting the blood. Turns out they were really close.’

‘You’re worried you’re being replaced?’ Carl asked, eyebrow raised.

‘No,’ Anders lied. ‘I’m happy he’s found her and dropped the kamikaze vampire slayer thing. I just wish she didn’t live with us and most of all didn’t put my hot boyfriend off sex.’

‘Well, when you put it like that.’

‘You know she bloody prayed over him one night. I was out late and I come back and he’s crashed out on the sofa and she’s standing over him saying Hail Marys. I had to stop her obviously, poor man was burning up, she thought it was because he’d turned the heating up and said she was worried because he hadn’t been to mass in nearly a century!’

Carl burst out laughing.

‘It’s not funny, if I hadn’t come back she’d have been on the Lord’s Prayer and god knows what other crap. He got her a fricking Madonna and child statue for the spare room, you know? I reckon it’s just an excuse for him not to go in there and sort out his boxes of crap.’ Carl was laughing so much he nearly split his drink. ‘Stop fucking laughing.’

‘Oh it is quite funny. I mean, this is Mitchell.’

‘What’s that mean? This is Mitchell?’

‘Well, you know. He’s quite powerful now, amongst vampires anyway, and he’s never really been one for the rules and he’s buying his mother religious icons. I’ve had him moaning to me too.’

‘Really?’

‘Only about the sex thing. Other than that he thinks it’s all wonderful.’

‘What did you tell him?’

‘To tell her she can’t come in your room. Look, at least she’s ok with the whole being with a man thing.’

‘Oh, because it’s _modern_. You know she’s never said anything, I thought she’d hate it. It’s so weird, like she obviously knows, she’s seen us in bed together, he kisses me in front of her, but neither of them acknowledge it or refer to us as anything other than _very good friends_.’

‘Anders, it’s just how things were then. People didn’t come out and make announcements, people got on with it. Very good friends is a euphemism, trust me. My mother was the same. She knew I was queer, always knew. She’d never in a million years say it though. She once told me when I was married I’d still be able to have lots of very close friends.’

‘Well I hope Ellen doesn’t want John to get married. She was watching a gay wedding on _Don’t Tell the Bride_ the other night and looked really interested. Then she said how smart John would look in a suit.’

Carl nearly snorted his wine out laughing. ‘And what did you say?’

‘Nothing, I was nearly choking on a pringle. Don’t laugh, it’s not fucking funny.’ Anders scowled as Carl continued to laugh. ‘You’re not taking this seriously are you?’

‘Oh, it’ll settle down. She’ll probably take her door soon now she knows he’s ok.’

‘Well, he might not be ok for long, that was the other thing I wanted to see you about.’

‘What’s happened?’

‘Jane,’ Anders groaned. ‘Few weeks ago I get a message, saying she knows what Mitchell’s done. So I’m crapping it, thinking she’s going after him, but then I see her three days later and she’s all sweetness and light.’

‘Has she said anything since?’

‘Not in person, but I’ve had two more messages. One said _Glad he’s got the message_ which of course he hasn’t as I kept quiet as he was all caught up with Ellen anyway, then another saying _I haven’t forgotten what Mitchell did_ last night. And of course this morning he’s started talking about the vampires again, going on about taking control and making everyone go clean like in Bristol.’

‘That’s not possible,’ Carl said quickly.

‘Which bit, Mitchell taking control or being clean?’

‘Being clean. Mitchell could take control if Charlotte weren’t around, most vampires are shit scared of him and Jane would happily go along with him as long as she could sit by his side. But you can never make vampires clean.’

‘Not even you?’

‘I’m a perfect example of why they couldn’t be clean.’

‘But what about your volunteer scheme?’

‘Hardly foolproof, or even Mitchell proof. He’d have killed someone within a couple of months if I hadn’t been there. You have to see it as a reduction strategy, not a cure.’

Anders looked at Carl, the way his eyes didn’t meet Anders, the way he shifted his glass around. ‘You’ve killed somebody, haven’t you?’

Carl said nothing, he toyed with the stem of his wine glass. ‘I went too long between feeds, it was inevitable.’

Anders nodded. ‘Does Mitchell know?’

‘I guess he’ll have to if he think he can make the vampires in this city go clean.’ Carl said, draining his glass and refilling it immediately.

~

Anders was feeling a little tipsy by the time he got home, he was worried about Carl, and how Mitchell would take the news his friend had fallen off the wagon, as well as worrying about Jane and Ellen.  He wandered up the stairs and it took him a while to find his key, before realising the door was open anyway. Mitchell was standing in the doorway, eyes dark and licking his lips.

‘Finally,’ Mitchell said, his voice almost a growl. ‘Bedroom. Now.’

‘What?’ Anders said, puzzled, his brain slow.

‘Get in the fuckin’ bedroom or I’m taking you right here. Mr Winston’s taken mum out and promised to keep her out for the evening. Now move.’

Anders didn’t need telling twice. They stood on opposite sides of the bed pulling their clothes off hurriedly and Anders flopped back on the bed first, grinning as Mitchell pulled his tight jeans off. Anders’ cock was hard already and lay heavily on his stomach when Mitchell was finally undressed and stood over him, eyes black and grinned.

‘Stop fuckin’ smirkin’,’ Mitchell growled, crawling up the bed, pulling Anders’ thighs apart and settling between them. Anders gasped as Mitchell licked a stripe up his cock, then paused, swirling around the head, his tongue lapping at the pre-come already gathering. ‘You’re mine,’ Mitchell growled, before taking Anders’ cock in his mouth properly.

Mitchell set to work like his life depended on it, bending his head and licking and sucking, saliva starting to run down his chin as he took Anders’ again and again to the back of his throat, his hand pumping where his mouth couldn’t reach, before he swallowed Anders down, almost gagging as Anders thrust up into the wet heat of his mouth. Mitchell was greedy for it, his lips were red and swollen, his face flushed, chin wet and he was grinding his own cock shamelessly into the mattress as he sucked Anders, feeling himself getting closer as Anders’ moans grew.

Mitchell pulled off Anders, a bead of wetness hanging from his lip to Anders’ cock, he looked up as he pumped Anders with his hand, the other hand snaking between his buttocks and forcing them apart. Anders gasped as Mitchell’s head dropped again, this time his tongue lapping at his hole, which clenched and fluttered as Mitchell’s tongue worked into it, demanding entrance. Anders spread his legs.

‘I’m gonna come,’ Anders murmured. Mitchell lent over to the bedside table and grabbed a pot of Vaseline, he preferred it to lube, he carelessly dipped his fingers in the large tub, covering them, before thrusting two greasy fingers inside Anders.

‘Come for me, baby,’ Mitchell urged, before his mouth was around Anders’ cock again and he was sucking and licking and grinding himself into the mattress, almost there himself. Anders writhed and moaned shamelessly as Mitchell found his prostate and started to rub it, moaning around Anders’ cock at the sounds it elicited from his lover. Anders’ cries were high pitched mewls of pleasure, his arse was stuffed with a third finger now and he was in Mitchell’s mouth being expertly sucked off. He grabbed Mitchell’s free hand and clutched it as he cried out and came hard.

Mitchell was greedy for it, he kept sucking, kept rubbing, milking Anders, making his orgasm long and hard. Anders was actually screaming as come spurted into Mitchell’s wet mouth, spilling out his cheeks and coating his lips. Mitchell gave Anders’ prostate a final stroke, felt a last spurt hit his throat and pulled off, his chin wet with a mixture of come and saliva, trying to swallow what he could.

Mitchell crawled up the bed and Anders wrapped his hand around his cock, Mitchell was so close, he looked at Anders, panting, legs spread, arsehole stretched open by his fingers as he stroked Mitchell furiously. Mitchell scissored his fingers, watched Anders’ rim stretch and felt a dark possessiveness swelling. Whatever Anders might get up to with Jane or any other woman, only Mitchell got to do this, give him this, made him beg.

Mitchell came over Anders’ cock, his name a choked sob on his lips, before bending his head to lick Anders clean, unable to get enough of him.

‘You’re such a come loving cocksucker,’ Anders said, panting and laughing as Mitchell finally lifted his head and pulled his fingers out of Anders.

‘I have been dying to do that for so long,’ Mitchell groaned. ‘Fuck, it was good.’

‘Yes it was,’ Anders agreed, letting Mitchell wrap him in his arms and pull him to his chest. ‘When you’re ready to go again you’re fucking me though. It’s been an age.’

‘I know, I know. I’m sorry, baby, I miss you, I miss your beautiful arse, I miss your cock in my mouth…’ Mitchell kissed Anders long and deep. ‘Fuck, I’m getting hard again.’ He raked his fingers through Anders’ chest hair. ‘Get on all fours.’

Anders scrambled around on the bed to comply and was bending over, pressing his chest into the mattress as Mitchell settled behind him, tongue working over his hole again when they heard the TV blaring on in the living room and the sound of someone moving about.

‘Don’t stop,’ Anders moaned, spreading his legs more, inviting and wanton as Mitchell lifted his head up.

‘No, no, she’s only been gone two hours!’ Mitchell groaned in frustration.

‘She’s not in here, just carry on,’ Anders begged. ‘Please.’

‘I can’t…’ Mitchell said. ‘I just can’t.’

‘Jesus, John! Are you saying we can never have sex while your mother’s with us, bearing in mind she’s a ghost so could literally be here _forever!_ ’ Mitchell said nothing and looked forlornly at Anders spread out, arse in the air for him, hardening again and wanting.

‘Oh God, I want you so much,’ Mitchell moaned.

‘Then have me, take me,’ Anders said, pulling his cheeks apart and Mitchell let out a small noise, half way between a moan and a cry. ‘Fuck me, look, you want this, you want me.’

‘I do and you’re mine,’ Mitchell growled, bending down to lick him again, this time pushing his tongue inside Anders’ hole, to filthy drawn out moans. He kept that up for a while, feeling the muscle relax and loosen even more, before pulling back and lining his cock up. Mitchell rubbed the head of his cock around Anders’ entrance.

‘You like that?’

‘Yeah,’ Anders panted, clutching the pillow beneath him. ‘Fuck me.’

‘Might do,’ Mitchell teased, before moaning as he watched Anders bear down and try to take his cock in as that muscle unfurled.

Mitchell leaned over and scooped another careless dollop of Vaseline out which he messily smeared over Anders’ now clenching hole before pushing in. Anders bore down again and Mitchell pushed, Anders grunting heavily as Mitchell breached him.

‘Fuck, yes,’ Anders sighed as Mitchell slid all the way in, feeling the fullness and satisfaction he’d been craving. ‘So full, so fuckin’ full.’

‘You love it, don’t you?’ Mitchell grinned, grinding deeper.

‘Yes,’ Anders sighed. ‘Move.’

‘What do you love?’ Mitchell asked darkly.

‘This.’

‘Be more specific.’

‘Fuckin’ move.’

‘Tell me what you love and I will.’

‘This, I love this.’

‘What’s this, Anders? Tell me, baby.’ Mitchell ran a finger over Anders’ stretched rim as he spoke, considered pulling at it and decided instead to smear the Vaseline in his crack around it instead.

‘Being full with you,’ Anders said.

‘Still going to have to give me more detail,’ Mitchell said, laughing as Anders tried to rock back and forth, but Mitchell’s hand on his hip stilled him.

‘I love you inside me, balls deep in my arse,’ Anders conceded. ‘Making me feel so full and stretched. I love you fucking me hard and filling me with your come.’ Anders then buried his face in the pillow, eyes watering with the fullness in his backside and the burning embarrassment he always felt when Mitchell made him graphically admit how much he loved it.

‘I know, baby, I know,’ Mitchell soothed before he snapped his hips and began fucking Anders in earnest, watching his cock pump in and out as Anders was pressed into the mattress and clutched the pillow even tighter, his hand around his cock, furiously stroking himself. ‘That’s it, make yourself come,’ Mitchell urged. ‘Come when you’re full of me, gonna fill you with my come, make your arse leak with it. You love that, don’t you? Having my come dripping down your legs and feeling that you’ve been well fucked every time you sit down. I see you, looking at girls, but I know you’re a filthy little cock whore who likes to spread himself open for me.’

‘Only for you,’ Anders gasped, almost there.

‘Damn right,’ Mitchell said, slapping his buttock hard enough to leave a red mark. ‘Just me filling you, just me seeing what a dirty, begging little cock lover you are.’

They were fucking fast now, the bed creaked beneath them and Anders whimpered into the pillow, his hand working fast as he felt the force of each of Mitchell’s thrusts push him into the bed a bit more.

‘Going to fuckin’ come,’ Mitchell said. ‘Going to fill your tight little hole and make it wet and sloppy.’ As he spoke Anders cried out, loud and long, his orgasm hit him hard though it was almost dry this time. Mitchell followed, and black eyed, he roared his pleasure into the night.

The lights flickered as Mitchell collapsed on Anders’ back, and as Anders collapsed onto the bed beneath him the door flew open behind them.

‘Jesus, what’s happened?’ Ellen cried, alarmed and frightened. Then her eyes widened as she saw Mitchell’s naked body atop Anders. ‘Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph!’ she whispered, crossing herself and vanishing into thin air. Mitchell let out a groan.

‘Oh fuck,’ he said, rolling off Anders.

~

‘She’ll be back,’ Anders said, handing Mitchell a cup of tea. ‘Stop worrying.’

‘This is your fault.’

‘My fault? You jumped on me the minute I walked through the door.’

‘You make me like that,’ Mitchell snarled.

‘What can I say? I’m a god, allegedly of poetry, but I actually think I’m probably a sex god.’

Mitchell looked at him witheringly.

‘What?’ Anders shrugged. ‘You can’t get enough of me, you’re crazed with lust when you see my cock. But you’re not the first, so don’t feel bad.’

‘You’re a little shit, you know that?’ Mitchell told him, walking to the window and leaning out, looking at the street. ‘Mum!’ he called. ‘Ma! Come back.’

‘Come in, you sound mental,’ Anders said, casually flicking through the TV channels.

‘I’m looking for my mum,’ Mitchell snapped back.

‘I can just imagine the convo: yes, officer, I’m looking for my mum, she’s staying with me. Oh, have the neighbours seen her? Why no, because she’s a ghost. Only my godly boyfriend and I can see her, vampire by the way. Nice helmet, officer.’ Anders shook his head. ‘I can bend people to my will, but even I have my limits.’ He looked up at the TV with interest. ‘New _Don’t Tell The Bride_ is on at ten, oh this sounds a good one, lesbo wedding. I wonder if they’ll show the wedding night? Oh no, not her, the other one’s fit though.’

‘You are unbelievable,’ Mitchell muttered. ‘For a man in a same sex relationship you have the worst attitude.’

‘Look, I just think that if lesbians can possibly help it they should be hot. And naked.’ Mitchell shook his head. ‘I think the same about gay men too, so I’m not sexist. I actually turned down doing the PR for a gay marriage campaign once because the guys who came to my offices were both ugly and one was actually straight. Besides, I don’t hold with gay marriage,’ he said seriously.

‘What?’ Mitchell said, turning round and looking at him incredulously. ‘How can you say that?’

‘Easily, it’s bad enough that straight couples have to go through that. I saw it as one of the great advantages of being with a guy. Luckily you’re not a freak who wants to tie me down for a sex free lifetime of pain and suffering.’

‘Jeez, marriage doesn’t have to be like that! And who says I might not want to one day?’

‘I do because you love blow jobs. It’s a well-known fact blow jobs stop on honeymoons.’

Mitchell sighed and lit a cigarette. ‘You’re a dick, you know? Anyway, I need to find my mum.’

‘Oh just chill out, who hasn’t walked in on their kids having sex?’

‘Er, my mum?’

‘Really? Mike walked in on me loads of times, once with his wife which was awkward. But loads of other times and it was fine – with guys and girls- since I was like fifteen. And Ty and Axl.’

‘One, Mike isn’t your mother –‘

‘No, but mum saw naked women in the background why I was skyping her from Norway.’

‘Jesus, Anders! Anyway, mine hasn’t.’

‘You did your boning away from home? Sly fox.’

‘No, Anders, I told you before I didn’t do any boning, as you put it, until I left for France.’

‘I thought about that and assumed you were winding me up as it’s simply not possible you were a virgin at twenty-four.’

‘Well, I was. So laugh away. And my mum probably didn’t realise that we... you know.’

‘Screw? What did she think we do? We share a bedroom! She’s watched Jeremy Kyle and _Loose Women_! Trust me, she knows.’

‘You think? I thought she just thought we kissed and cuddled.’ He sighed again and sat down next to Anders who was shaking his head incredulously. ‘At least she might not come in our room anymore though,’ he said softly, pulling Anders close and nosing into his hair.

‘That would be good, because I’m telling you, I’m not living like this. I expect sex at least daily.’

‘We didn’t have sex every day, Anders,’ Mitchell said, rolling his eyes.

‘But I’d like to. And we did have sex most days.’

‘You make too much noise, I’ll have to buy you a gag,’ Mitchell said, pressing a kiss to his temple. ‘Actually, I like the thought of you gagged, works on so many levels.’

‘Kinky fucker,’ Anders muttered, snuggling into his chest and slipping a hand inside his t-shirt to rest on his taut stomach.  Mitchell laughed and kissed him again, before letting out a little yelp as his mother appeared in the chair next to them.

‘Sit down, John,’ Ellen said wearily, as Mitchell sat bolt upright and started to get to his feet. Anders smiled at her and tried to snuggle back into Mitchell’s chest, but Mitchell was rigid.

‘Where did you go?’ Mitchell asked. ‘I’ve been worried.’

‘I went for a walk, it’s a nice night,’ she replied lightly. ‘Do either of you boys want a drink or something to eat?’

‘Yes please,’ Anders said immediately. ‘You couldn’t stick a pizza on, could you?’

‘Sure I can, lovey. Which one would you like?’

‘Oh, any will do.’

‘Would you like something to go with that? There’s lots in the fridge.’

‘Pizza will be fine,’ Mitchell said.

‘There’s potatoes, salad, I can make you some chips. Would you like vegetables? There’s half a loaf of soda bread too, you know you can buy it now? John never said, I was going to make some, but this stuff is wonderful.’

‘Chips and salad would be nice,’ Anders said, grinning. ‘I finished the chocolate cake by the way. Lovely.’

‘I’ll make another one tomorrow. Or I could try the carrot cake, I wasn’t convinced but I copied a recipe out a book in the library and it looked delicious. John’s looking thin, he needs snacks. I want to try that mixer too, I can’t believe you’ve had it in the cupboard all this time and not used it.’

‘I’m fine, Ma,’ Mitchell said, rolling his eyes. ‘And we’re not exactly bakers.’

‘You’re looking drawn, I think you need feeding up. And there’s lots of men who bake these days, there was that nice Jamie Oliver on telly the other day, and that Ramsay fellow swears more than Anders. Anders, would you like a cup of tea?’

‘Love one,’ Anders said, smiling as she wandered off into the kitchen. ‘See,’ he said to Mitchell. ‘She’s fine. I mean she’s not going to say anything.’

‘She might,’ Mitchell fretted.

‘What’s she going to say? Nice shag earlier, boys?’ Anders laughed. ‘Trust me, nobody ever mentions that they saw their kids having sex. Not that we were, I mean we’d finished, although I think you were still inside me, I was definitely covered in come though . . .’

‘Shushhh,’ Mitchell hissed. ‘Just keep it down. And don’t mention sex.’

‘You know, you’re the puritanical one, not her.’

‘You just said I was kinky.’

‘You are, you’re a weird combination of incredibly filthy and deeply puritanical. It’s actually a huge turn on. So, now we know she’s not bothered, please can we have sex more often? Because I don’t want my dick to drop off from lack of use.’

‘I’m sure that won’t happen while you have hands.’

‘John! I’m serious.’

‘Ok,’ Mitchell said, sighing. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to…’

‘I know you want me, I got that earlier. Hey, we should go for a weekend away. We could go to Paris.’

‘I can’t leave her.’

‘So are you saying we can’t ever go anywhere or go on holiday?’

‘Noooo, ohh, we’ll talk about this another time.’

‘We do need to, talk that is,’ Anders said seriously, the radio was now on in the kitchen and he knew they’d be undisturbed until the food was ready. ‘What about our plan?’

‘What plan?’

‘To go to New Zealand and escape the vampires.’

‘I don’t think we can do that just now.’

‘Well, what are we going to do? Kill them all? Work for them forever?’

Anders sat up and looked at Mitchell, who shifted around uncomfortably.

‘When mum takes her door we can make plans.’

‘When will that be? Surely her unfinished business was finding you, she’s found you, so it’ll be soon, right?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Maybe she wants to know I’m ok.’

‘So we tell her about the New Zealand plan and how it’s all going to be ok. Do you want her to take her door?’ Anders asked.

‘Not really, I like having her here, we were really close you know. When I went away I was desperately homesick, I literally felt sick for the first few weeks. Then the fighting started…’ his voice trailed off. ‘I missed her every day I was away, I hadn’t been away from home before. Then when I was turned I couldn’t bear her to know what had happened to me and I was scared of what I could do. I was terrified I’d kill someone I loved.’

‘So, if we moved to New Zealand and got a Granny annex you’d be quite happy?’ Anders said, eyebrow raised.

‘Yeah,’ Mitchell said, thinking about it then smiling warmly. ‘Yeah, I think I’d like that. Best of both worlds. And when Ty and Dawn have kids they can visit us. I’m great with kids, love ‘em.’

Anders groaned. ‘You have this all planned out, don’t you?’

‘No, I just think it sounds a nice idea. Being part of a happy family.’

‘I wouldn’t know, never been part of a happy family.’

‘Well, now’s your chance.’

‘Hmmm. I’m not really family though, am I?’ Anders chewed his lip as he spoke and frowned.

‘You are to my mother,’ Mitchell said, kissing his head. ‘And to me, I love you, you’re my world.’ Mitchell kissed him again, on the lips this time and Anders returned his kiss, before Mitchell broke off and smiled. ‘Come on, food’ll be ready soon, and you know there’ll be enough to feed an army.’

‘If I get fat and you go off me I’m so blaming your mother,’ Anders said with a sigh before getting up and following Mitchell into the kitchen.

 


	19. My Little Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders' powers have worn off and Bragi is nowhere to be found, Mitchell is desperate and Jane is on the loose.

Mitchell paced back and forth, pulling at his hair. All he could hear was the blood pumping through the veins of the courier standing in the doorway. He no longer even cared that his beloved mother was with him, seeing him in this state, after he’d tried so very hard to be the son she remembered.

‘Answer the door!’ Ellen hissed at him, anxiously glancing at the closed door.

‘No, I can’t, I can’t,’ Mitchell moaned, sitting down on the floor and hugging his knees. ‘Whatever you do, don’t let anyone in except Anders. I’ll hurt them.’

‘You won’t,’ she soothed, bending down to stroke his hair. ‘I trust you, you can fight this and Anders will be back soon.’

‘You’re wrong, I’d rip his fucking throat out in a second if that door was opened.’ Mitchell looked up at the door. ‘Just leave it or come back another time!’ he shouted, a sheen of sweat on his brow. He was shaking now, every fibre in his body called out for it, for blood. He ached and he could hear the man’s pulse like a drum in his ear.

‘John, just take a deep breath,’ Ellen began, her brow creased with worry and distress.

‘Tie me up,’ he snapped. ‘Now, before it’s too late. It’s been so long. She was right, she was right I can’t live without it.’

‘Who was right?’

‘My little devil,’ Mitchell hissed, laughing. ‘You don’t let anyone in, only Anders.’ He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. ‘Hide the key from me. You don’t let me out. You saw those people coming through those doors, you know what I could do.’

Ellen nodded wordlessly. She watched as Mitchell rocked back and forth, pulling at his hair, crying out as if in pain. She checked the door was locked and put the key in her dress pocket, pulling her coat tight around her, before going to sit with Mitchell, wrapping her arms around him, tears falling silently down her cheeks as she stroked his hair, which was now damp with sweat.

~

Anders pressed the button to the lift and swore in annoyance on seeing it was out of order.

‘My feet are bloody killin’ me,’ Jane complained next to him. ‘I don’t wanna walk.’

‘Don’t wear ridiculous shoes then,’ Anders said rolling his eyes and heading for the stairs. Jane stared at her black boots.

‘These are quite sensible, I ‘ave to ‘ave an ‘eel cos I’m little,’ she said, following him.

‘Poor little Janey,’ Anders mocked, holding out a hand to her and smiling. She looked hot today, he thought, she always did, but he liked her in jeans, she had a surprisingly shapely bottom for a skinny girl. Jane took his hand and giggled.

‘Will it be just us upstairs?’ she asked.

‘I guess so, Mitchell’s not answering any calls.’

‘What’s ‘e up to these days? I ain’t seen ‘im for ages.’

‘Oh, you know, he’s out and about. Aw, shit,’ Anders sighed. ‘Wait here, I’ve left by bloody iPad in the bar, shit.’ He started to run down the stairs.

‘Give us the key,’ Jane called. ‘I ain’t standing ‘ere.’

Anders threw her the key from his pocket unthinkingly and ran down the stairs, heading for the bar they’d just been in, only thinking of getting to his precious iPad before it was stolen.

Jane carried on up the stairs and tried the door. She could hear voices inside and pressed her ear against it. Her face changed instantly from one of impish curiosity to rapt interest.

‘I need to feed,’ Mitchell cried, letting out a wail. ‘Where the fuck is Anders?’

‘Sit down, John, please, you can control this, I know you can,’ a woman pleaded. She was Irish, Jane frowned, puzzled.

‘Nooooo,’ he cried. ‘I’m going.’ Jane was suddenly startled by a bang from the other side of the door. She jumped back as it banged again. ‘Give me the key!’ Mitchell shouted. ‘Give me the fuckin’ key!’ he screamed. Jane could hear him rattling the door and the woman crying. ‘Stop that and just give me the key,’ Mitchell shouted again. ‘I’ll make you, I’ll fuckin’ make you! I’m gonna get out of here if I have to kick this door down and I’m gonna feed, so just save me the time and give me the key.’

‘No, you’re not yourself,’ the woman wept in a soft voice. ‘I’ll go and get Anders, stay here, please, John, please don’t go. I’ll find him.’

‘Don’t you fucking go!’ Mitchell screamed, cursing and pounding the door with his fist. ‘Come back! Come back with my fucking key!’

Jane stood, comprehension dawning, he’d been talking to a ghost and was now alone, trapped in Anders’ office, or at least until he kicked the door down. She pulled herself up straight and put the key in the door, turning it.

‘Darlin’’ she cooed, pushing the door open and seeing the look of shock on Mitchell’s face. ‘Oh, come ‘ere, darlin’,’ she said, opening her arms. Mitchell was drenched in sweat, his face pale and hands shaking. He looked at her, shaking his head.

‘Get out my way,’ he snapped.

‘Sweet’eart,’ she said, pushing him back and closing the door behind her. ‘You ain’t going anywhere in this state. Come ‘ere.’ She took her leather jacket off and threw it on the floor, quickly rolling the sleeve of her black top up. She held his gaze as her eyes bled black, her fangs extended and she brought her wrist to her mouth, biting just enough to draw blood, before holding her arm out to Mitchell.

He watched her standing there, black hair, black top and jeans, all darkness against pale white skin, with two drops of deep red blood falling from her wrist. Jane smiled as his eyes bled black and he fell upon her, sucking her wrist greedily.

Jane dragged them to the sofa, pulling Mitchell along, his mouth clamped to her wrist. ‘That’s it,’ she encouraged, sitting down and brushing her hair back, baring her neck. ‘Come on, have a drink. Then we’ll go get something proper.’

~

‘Whoa,’ Anders said, almost bumping into the bar. ‘Can you not do that?’ he asked Ellen who had rushed at him and almost knocked him off his feet.

‘You need to come,’ she cried. ‘It’s John, he’s gone crazy and wants blood and he’s locked in the office and he’s saying he’s going to kick the door down and kill someone,’ she said quickly.

‘What?’ Anders asked sharply.

‘He needs you to come and talk to him,’ Ellen said, bursting into tears.

‘Shit, shit, shit,’ Anders said to himself, thinking of Jane on the stairs with his key. He’d be lucky if they weren’t tearing into the nearest tube station by now. He ignored Ellen and bolted from the bar.

‘Oi!’ the red headed Australian behind the bar shouted after him. ‘Don’tcha want your iPad?’ She shook her head as she watched him run past the window, muttering about weird Kiwis. Ellen looked at the barmaid, who stared through her, unseeing, then still sobbing ran after Anders.

~

Anders was sweating and out of breath by the time he reached his office and pretty much fell through the door. Ellen was beside him crying, her sobs increasing when she saw the door was wide open. Anders looked around, he ran into the kitchen and toilet, but there was nobody.

‘Shit!’ he exclaimed. He saw Mitchell’s phone plugged in by his desk, he picked it up and looked through it, there was nothing but missed calls from Anders. Anders pocketed the phone, ‘shit, shit, shit,’ he said again, running a hand through his hair.

‘Where would he have gone?’ Ellen asked, trying to compose herself.

‘I don’t know.’

‘How did he even get out? I have the key, look.’ She held up the key which had been well hidden.

‘I gave the key to a client before going to get my iPad.’

‘Do you think he…’ Ellen whispered.

‘No,’ Anders said quickly.

Ellen nodded, walking up and down. ‘Anders, there’s blood on the floor. Look, here by the door, just a few drops.’ Her voice was rising with an edge of hysteria. ‘Oh sweet Lord, please no, please no.’

‘Oh fuck,’ Anders sighed. He looked up and saw Ellen with her hand clapped over her mouth, looking sickened. ‘Hey, it’s ok.’

‘He could have killed your client,’ Ellen gasped.

‘No, he really couldn’t. She’s a vampire. Our clients are all vampires,’ Anders admitted. Ellen’s face looked puzzled, but she pushed away her questions, focused only on finding her son.

‘He was crazy, I’ve never seen anything like it,’ she said. ‘You have to find him.’

Anders sighed, he didn’t often wish Mike was with him, but he missed Ullr at this moment. The god of the hunt would have found Mitchell instantly. Anders didn’t dare imagine what he’d find when he eventually caught up with him.

‘Right, we need a plan,’ Anders said. ‘You can get around quicker, do your rent a ghost thing, keep checking the flat then come back to me.’ Anders wracked his brains trying to think where Mitchell would go, where Mitchell and Jane would go. ‘Try all the bars,’ Anders said, starting to walk, Ellen by his side. ‘He’ll be with a woman, she’s small, dark hair and hot.’ He didn’t see Ellen’s raised eyebrows at that. They stood on the street, Anders looked up and down the road. ‘You go that way, look in every bar, check the toilets too. I’m going somewhere else.’

‘Where?’

‘Somewhere he might go,’ Anders muttered, Ellen nodded and walked off, head held high, resolved that whatever she found, she would find her son again.

~

He’d tried several bars, ones he’d heard Mitchell mention, he’d tried the shop Jane was nominally owner of, the fashion boutique in Soho. He’d tried asking the river boat people, but nobody had seen Mitchell and Jane, not even when Bragi asked them for the truth. Now Anders was in a quiet street in north London, he banged on the door of the Edwardian semi-detached house with the big red door. Such an ordinary street, an ordinary three-story house in an ordinary part of Highgate, stone’s throw from the cemetery. He had expected something more trendy, or more gothic, he wasn’t sure which, he never knew what to expect from the woman who looked like beautiful teenager, but had the mind of a blood thirsty two hundred and fifty year old vampire.

‘Jane!’ he yelled, thumping the window. ‘Jane!’

Anders sighed. There was nothing. Not a peep. There was a big gate and high wall to the side so he couldn’t get around the back and he could see an alarm on the side of the house. Trust Jane to have high security. Finally, admitting defeat Anders walked back to the main road, hailing a cab to take him home.

Anders stared out the window of the cab, watching the rain fall. The world became blurry and he wasn’t sure if he was the rain or his own eyes that were clouded with water. He felt sick, so sick he nearly asked the driver to stop more than once. His stomach clenched every time he thought of what Mitchell could be doing now. What madness would overtake him, what he and Jane would do to other people and to each other. What a hypocrite, he thought bitterly as jealous anger bubbled as he thought of Mitchell fucking Jane, now the thought was probably a reality it no longer seemed sexy.

~

The scene that awaited Anders when he walked through the door was not what he expected. He wasn’t sure what he expected really, maybe a blood soaked Mitchell. Maybe Ellen sobbing. He didn’t expect to find Jane calmly making a cup of tea with a tea towel tied around her wrist.

‘Where’s John?’ he asked immediately, shrugging off his jacket and undoing his tie, dropping both over a chair.

‘In your bedroom,’ Jane answered. ‘I’m making ‘im a cuppa.’ She added two teaspoons of sugar to the cup before pouring in the milk and stirring.

‘What’s going on?’

‘You’re killing ‘im, you know?’ she said seriously. There was no glint in her eye, no game. She put the milk back in the fridge and picked up the mug. She’d chosen the Twilight mug, the one with ‘vampires sparkle’ in glittery writing.

‘Me?’

‘We can’t live without blood. You do your thing, ‘e goes without and every time it wears off it gets worse. The need, the craving. You’re going to break ‘im, ‘e can’t do it forever. And then eventually it ain’t just other people you ‘ave to worry about. Your precious ‘uman race. It’s Mitchell who’ll die. We’re already dead, we can’t make blood, we can’t grow or get old or sick, because we’re frozen. I died when I was seventeen in 1784. Do you think I’d still be ‘ere if I’d abstained? If I’d ignored my nature and tried to be a ‘uman? I was a ‘uman, I was born, I worked, suffered and I got ill and if I ‘ad’t been saved I’d ‘ave died a painful death without ever living. Now I ‘ave lived a life more fantastic and amazing than you can imagine. So ‘as ‘e. Mitchell’s done things and seen things, not just terrible things, incredible things. We was there when Paris was liberated, I’ve seen kings and queen crowned and die, I’ve seen a world where the ‘orse was the fastest thing and seen men walk on the moon. I’ve been to such places and ‘ave more memories than you can dream of. So does ‘e and you’d let him wither like a flower in a desert.’

‘What will happen to him?’ Anders asked, swallowing.

‘’E’ll get weak, ‘e’ll fight it, cos ‘e’s Mitchell. ‘E’ll tell you not to worry and that it’s fine. But then he won’t be able to do things, e’ll lay in bed, unmoving. ‘is body will slow, ‘e’ll be pale and look like a corpse, but ‘e wont’ die, because ‘e’s already dead. ‘E’ll be the living dead and you will ‘ave done that to him.’

‘How long will that take?’

‘Depends, some vampires can go ten, even twenty years, others barely five. And Mitchell? He’s been used to blood. Lots of blood. I reckon you’ve got a couple of years before e’s too weak to live a normal life. ‘E’ll be a corpse in five, lying there, shrunken and pinched, not beautiful like ‘e is now. And it’ll be your fault.’

Anders watched as Jane cradled the hot cup in her hands. She was looking at him intently, her big dark eyes more serious than he’d ever seen them.

‘If he carries on drinking he’ll kill someone and if he keeps killing he’ll kill himself.’

‘’E’s denying ‘is nature, what ‘e is, that’s ‘is problem. Mitchell’s a vampire. The man died in 1917, the vampire is what you see now. What you’re doing is cruel, if you really loved ‘im you’d use that power of yours to tell him to drink without guilt, to be the vampire ‘e could be, the greatest vampire I ever met.’

Anders stared at her, this wasn’t the usual Jane, laughing at them, at him. He could see Mitchell in his mind’s eye as a shrunken waxen corpse in a coffin, his hair grey, his skin stretched over his skull.

Jane walked past him to their bedroom, he followed her and saw Mitchell sat in a corner, hugging his knees, his eyes red from tears and a red stain around his mouth. Ellen sat on the edge of the bed, her head bowed, her lips moving in silent prayers, her rosary twisted in her fingers, though she kept the crucifix in her clenched fist, out of sight of the two vampires.

‘There you go,’ Jane said softly, setting the tea on the bedside table and crouching over Mitchell, untying the tea towel from her wrist. There were two puncture wounds on her inside wrist, Mitchell grabbed her hand and pulled her arm to his mouth, suckling greedily at her blood. Ellen’s whispered prayers became more fevered.

‘Anders is ‘ere,’ Jane said.

‘Where were you?’ Mitchell cried accusingly, pulling away from Jane.

‘I’m sorry,’ Anders said softly. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve been looking everywhere, I thought you’d run off together.’

‘I,’ Jane announced importantly. ‘Brought ‘im ‘ome as he was wailing in the fuckin’ street about not wanting to kill people. I ‘ad to pretend ‘e was drunk. The Lord Bragi might need to visit some of the shops near your office tomorrow.’

She tied the tea towel around her wrist again and kissed Mitchell on the cheek.

‘I’m going now,’ she said. ‘I ain’t staying while you do your thing.’

‘You’ve seen me do it loads of times,’ Anders said, puzzled.

‘Don’t want to catch nothin’, you ain’t pulling your shit on me. I intend to live at least another five ‘undred years.’

She stalked off as Anders crouched beside Mitchell.

‘ _You don’t want blood, you don’t need blood, you won’t kill anyone and you won’t kill yourself. Do you understand?’_

Mitchell nodded, ‘yes,’ then heaved a sigh of relief.

~

‘I’m sorry,’ Mitchell said again. It might have been the hundredth time, he didn’t know.

‘I’ve told you to forget it,’ Ellen said softly. ‘You weren’t yourself.’

‘I said unforgiveable things to you,’ Mitchell said, almost gasping at the memory. Ellen got up from her chair and watched the fish for a few minutes, saying nothing.

‘John, do you remember Fiona Clark? Red head, 1947. There were a lot of red heads, weren’t there, but she was extraordinarily pretty.’

‘Yes,’ Mitchell whispered, shame flooding him as the memory was dragged from the recesses of his mind.

‘Fiona was nineteen years old. And you ripped her throat out, she was so scared, and worried about her mother finding her body. Did you know that?’

Mitchell shook his head, tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘I’m so sorry, I’m a monster, it’s unforgiveable.’

‘You took her virginity too.’ Ellen stared at the fish, their bright colours a stark contrast to her black skirt and white blouse. ‘I think that was my lowest point. I thought there was no way back from that for you.’

Mitchell had covered his face with his hands, the guilt and shame of not only his actions, but his mother’s knowledge of them was too much to bear.

‘But you’re my son, so I kept trying to find a way to you. Because I knew that the man I watched step on that boat, the man who bravely went to fight for his country, who nearly missed the boat because he stopped to help one of those lassies who was shouting at the soldiers, do you remember? That lass who was shouting you were all traitors and should fight the English, then when someone smacked her one you went to help her, because she was just a girl. I remembered that man and you still are that man. You’ve been cursed with something terrible and if I ever find Herrick in whatever circle of hell he’s in now, I’ll deal to him something a thousand times worse than death for what he did to you,’ she spat the last few words, her voice quivering with anger. Mitchell looked up, his mother was rarely angry, she was sad, grief-stricken, regretful, but anger was something of a peculiarity. But now her face was set with rage, her teeth gritted. Mitchell instinctively shielded his face as the spotlight bulbs in above them popped and shattered one by one, followed by the lamp and then the ‘vampires glitter’ mug shot off the table and smashed.

‘Ma, Ma,’ Mitchell said, getting up and wrapping his arms around her. ‘Stop this, calm down, it’s okay. Shushh.’

Ellen nodded and began to cry softly. ‘You see, you never have to say it’s unforgiveable, I’m your mother and I’ll love you forever.’

Mitchell held her, wishing she was more solid, wishing he could feel her warmth, the way he remembered. He felt as if his mother’s living flesh could have washed it all away, the pain, the crimes. But she was dead, they had both died long, long ago.

‘What’s going on in here?’ Anders said, walking in carrying a bottle of wine, looking alarmed at the light bulbs shattered over the floor, plunging the room into dimness.  The television was now skipping through channels, blaring out music and speech as the channels blurred into one.

‘Shushh, Ma, stop this,’ Mitchell urged. ‘Anders can make it all ok, Anders has saved me, he’s made it all go away.’

Anders stood dumbly watching the unfolding scene, as Mitchell, surrounded by broken glass held his mother, soothing her, cooing praise for his own personal god, who standing with his shirt untucked, hair dishevelled, holding a bottle of wine he’d just taken a swig from, felt most undeserving of it. Anders felt his stomach flip, not even sure if it was the terror at Mitchell’s dependency on him or the realisation of how much he loved him, how he’d do anything for him.

‘I’ll get the hoover,’ was all Anders said though, setting the wine down on the table and giving Mitchell’s arm a squeeze as he walked past him.

~

‘Is she ok now?’ Anders asked, staring at the dark ceiling. It was late now and they were lying in bed, Mitchell having finally come to bed. Mitchell picked up Anders’ hand and held it.

‘I doubt it, but she’s calm. She’s doing the ironing.’ Mitchell was tired, pale and had dark circles under his eyes.

‘Right. Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, thanks to you.’ Mitchell rolled over and kissed Anders. ‘You’ve saved me. Poor mum, seeing what a monster I am without you.’

‘You weren’t always like that,’ Anders reasoned.

‘When it wears off, it hits me, it’s like the worst cravings. Jane said it’s because I don’t consciously fight it, so I’m not prepared when it hits.’

‘What was she playing at? I thought I’d find you both knee deep in bodies.’

‘I don’t know. I don’t like it when Jane acts like that.’

‘Like what?’

‘A reasonable person. It means something’s about to happen usually, something serious.’

Anders stiffened, remembering the conversation he’d had with her in the kitchen.

‘What’s up?’ Mitchell asked, noticing the change.  

‘She said … she told me that what I’m doing is going to kill you, well not kill you cos you’re dead already apparently, but make you too weak to do anything. You’d be like a corpse she said.’

Mitchell sighed. ‘Well, now you know her game.’ He sounded uncertain.

‘So she’s wrong? You’re not going to be a corpse in a couple of years?’

‘Of course she’s wrong. Carl went like twenty years without blood.’

‘Did he though? Really?’

‘Yes! I know it went wrong in the end, but not like that. He can control it.’

‘He killed someone, he’s feeding again, properly. I saw him a few weeks ago, when you were off on your kamikaze vampire killing spree and we were worried about you.’

Mitchell said nothing. The silence hung in the air.

‘You never said,’ Mitchell finally said.

‘I didn’t want you running round there with a stake and then having the emotional fallout of killing your oldest friend.’ Mitchell gave Anders a sad smile as Anders squeezed his hand.

‘I’m sorry,’ Mitchell said again. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Stop saying sorry. You didn’t ask to be a vampire. It’s not your fault.’

Mitchell said nothing.

‘So it could be true, what Jane said?’

‘She’s talking crap, as usual. What does she even know? All Jane thinks about is blood and clothes.’

‘That’s not true though, is it? She’s an Old One and they knew about me. She’s smarter than she looks.’

‘That isn’t difficult.’

‘You know what I mean. What if she is right?’

‘Look, if I start to get so weak I can’t do stuff, _if_ , because it’s a big if, we can do the volunteer thing, but with Bragi, so it’s controlled and not some fucking orgy.’

Anders nodded, rolling over and letting Mitchell hold him. ‘We need to stay together, we can’t risk that happening again.’

‘It was bad luck,’ Mitchell kissed his forehead. ‘Don’t worry.’

‘I can’t risk…’ Anders wanted to say losing you, but stopped himself. ‘I can’t risk losing all my light bulbs,’ he said instead.

‘Sorry about that.’ Mitchell kissed Anders again, on the lips this time. He wasn’t really in the mood for sex, not after the day he’d had, but he needed to come back, come back to Anders and humanity.

Mitchell rolled them over so he was on top of Anders, kissing him, hand going to Anders’ cock, rubbing through his boxers. Mitchell smiled as Anders began to respond, began to harden and kiss him back. Mitchell lifted Anders’ t-shirt and raked his fingers through his chest hair, kissing and licking over his chest, breathing deeply, noticing his skin, hair, muscles and the rise and fall of his chest and relishing the feeling of not mapping his arteries in his mind, of not deciding which one to puncture first, because he was now John the human who was making love to his beautiful god, his saviour.

Anders didn’t fight it, Mitchell always did this after he’d been upset, Anders couldn’t really be bothered, too exhausted and emotionally drained by the day. But he let Mitchell kiss him, moaned as he pulled his boxers down just enough to take Anders’ dick in his mouth. Mitchell sucked and licked until Anders was almost there, then edging his own boxer briefs down just enough Mitchell lay over Anders, lining their cocks up, wrapping his hand around them both.

‘You want this?’ Mitchell asked. Anders nodded, trying to lift Mitchell’s t-shirt to feel his chest as their pricks, slick with spit and pre-come, slid together. ‘You’re so fucking beautiful,’ Mitchell groaned, stroking them faster, before he came over his fist and Anders’ cock. Mitchell quickly let go of his own cock and concentrated just on Anders, picking up the speed and pressure, panting into Anders’ neck.

‘I’m gonna come,’ Anders whispered. Mitchell lifted his head to watch his lover’s face as he came before covering him in kisses and murmured praise.

~

It was well after midnight and Anders lay awake, Mitchell curled in his arms, lulled into deep sleep by Bragi. Anders wished his own mind was as easily quieted. The conversation with Jane was playing over in his head again and again. His mind filled with awful images of Mitchell as a waxen corpse, unmoving, withering away until he was a shrunken horror, all beauty and life gone. Then that image was replaced with the image of a very alive Mitchell drenched in blood, fangs bared, eyes black and terrible, lifting his head from a body before sharing a kiss with an equally bloody Jane. Anders blinked away tears as Mitchell stirred and snuggled deeper into Anders’ chest.

Deep down Anders knew that Jane had been telling the truth, that Mitchell had a death wish and the man sleeping in his arms, the man he loved beyond sense, beyond reason and most definitely beyond his own good judgement, was slipping away. One way or another Anders knew he would lose him.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette for everything.


	20. The Doors to Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell tries to move on, but can Anders move with him? Jane still lurks and Anders is falling for her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Lancette for all her help and thoughts, especially on this chapter.

Mitchell sat with his feet on the desk playing with his phone. There wasn’t much to do anymore, Anders took care of vampire business, Anders talked to all the vampires, not trusting Mitchell not to stake them anymore, Mr Winston had carried on doing the accounts despite his initial insistence it was temporary and all Mitchell really did was light admin and fending off genuine would be clients. Anders had even stopped nagging him to dress smartly on the days he bothered to go into the office.

Today was one of those days. Mr Winston had the books spread out on the conference table and Anders was off in central London somewhere, sweet talking someone for an exorbitant fee, having been persuaded by Ellen and Mr Winston it was okay to leave Mitchell after Bragi had ‘topped him up’. Mitchell was now bored.

‘Mr Winston,’ Mitchell said, tossing his phone down.

‘Yes?’ Mr Winston replied, not looking up, but continuing to write in the book.

‘Do you want to do something?’

‘I’m very busy, where’s your nice friend?’

‘Working,’ Mitchell said, sighing. He’d hardly seen Carl lately, he should make the effort to go to see him, but he didn’t know what to say to him. _Did you lie to me about how long you were clean_ , was what he wanted to say. _How could you let me think it was even possible,_ was another, but really who was he to judge? Had Carl killed twenty people on a train before tearing his way through a bunch of priests? Had Carl’s mother met the ghosts of young girls he’d murdered as they stumbled through their doors, frightened and in shock that the handsome man they’d fallen for had ripped their throat out?

Mitchell sighed and took his feet off the desk and started to go through Anders’ emails. He screwed his face up. There were far too many from Charlotte, they were all the same, a name and address, usually a policeman or pathologist, a victim and a new cause of death. Then there were the ones from Jane. Did she know Mitchell had access to this account? Anders certainly did, which made his flirtatious replies even harder to stomach. It seemed to be a running joke that Jane, unable to be captured on camera, photographed her outfits and sent them to Anders with smutty comments.

He opened the most recent chain, to which Jane had attached a picture of leather skin tight trousers, a white cropped top and sheer pink knickers.

_Jane: Hi handsome, like it?_

_Anders: Hot, no bra?_

_Jane: I thought you liked them free?_

_Anders: I like them any way you want them. Nice panties._

_Jane: ;)_

_Anders: prick tease_

Mitchell slammed the laptop shut angrily. Had Anders completely forgotten that Jane gave him that record? That Jane was desperate to lure him back into his old lifestyle? But then he thought of Jane, of her big brown eyes looking at him and telling him to drink from her, that it would be okay and he wouldn’t kill anyone today. He couldn’t summon the hatred anymore. As his mother had said, Herrick killed her, it had been Herrick who recorded her death to torment him, not Jane. He knew why she’d done it, she’d wanted to send him so crazy with rage that he killed and then in his blood soaked fury she would have him back, his attempt to be human would be over.

And now? He didn’t know. She could have lead him into hell the other week, but she’d kept him safe and delivered him to his mother instead and let him drink from her until she was light headed. He closed his eyes, remembering the way his tongue swept her inner wrist, how he’s kissed bloody marks up to her elbow and licked her palm and slender fingers as bloody trickled over her hand. He remembered that when they got back home and he’d lunged at her arm again she’d grabbed a pillow to strategically cover his lap so his mother wouldn’t see how hard he was from lapping at the puncture wounds on her pale wrist.

‘Fuck!’ he cursed, throwing a roll of sellotape to the floor in frustration as he felt the familiar stirring of lust coil his in gut. It wasn’t even the blood, Anders had seen to that. He wished he could ask Anders to stop him being drawn to the damn woman, but he could never admit what she was to him, not even to himself.

‘Mr Mitchell! Language!’ Mr Winston cried.

‘I’m sorry,’ Mitchell said hurriedly, coming back to himself and tearing his mind away from Jane’s arm, wrist and every other part of her small, but fucking irresistible body.

‘Oh, if your poor mother could hear you,’ Mr Winston tutted.

‘I don’t think she’s too bothered about swearing.’

‘The tolerance that lady has. I would ask her to live with me if it wasn’t an indecent thing to propose to a lady. When I think what she must hear from the heathen you live with.’ Mitchell rolled his eyes and got up to get a drink as Mr Winston put his pen down and got into his stride. ‘I told her about dear Josie and how nice she was, such a precious girl.’

‘She’s dead,’ Mitchell muttered audibly.

‘And Annie, now she was a good girl. Such a sweet young lady, and you couldn’t defile her with your wickedness.’

Mitchell scowled, mentions of Annie always tugged at his heart, even now. He couldn’t imagine how he’d thought himself in love the way he was with Anders, it was different, but the urge to protect and care for Annie was still strong and the realisation he’d never see her again was still like a punch in the gut.

‘My mother thinks Anders is lovely,’ Mitchell retorted, putting the kettle on. He wasn’t sure why he was even bothering to defend the man who at this moment was probably emailing Jane about her knickers, but the love he felt overwhelmed everything else. It wasn’t even the sex that bothered him, not the physical sex, it was the friendship, the teasing, the affection.

‘Your mother is too sweet for her own good. And the boasts he makes, such foul things he says and to think she must hear, good Lord above, I hope it’s just his boastfulness.’

Mitchell rolled his eyes again, both at Mr Winston and whatever Anders had said.

‘She’s not bothered I’m with a guy, you know,’ Mitchell said, his voice as flat as his mood.

‘I’ve tried to tell her, but she was quite sharp with me. Still, it’s good for you to have such a wonderful lady in your life, I have no doubt she’ll sort out your deviant ways in time. Such wickedness you’ve been exposed to, but I can see where your good heart comes from. How could you not have a good heart with such a mother?’

Mitchell smiled inwardly at that, both the compliment to his mother and the fact Mr Winston thought he had a good heart, Mr Winston might disapprove of almost every aspect of Mitchell’s lifestyle but his faith in his humanity was what made their friendship fast and firm, it had never wavered, even at his darkest Mr Winston had urged him to cast out the demon and find the man.

Mitchell finished making his coffee and went back to Anders emails, deleting the thread from Jane and hoping Anders took the hint to at least not flirt with her on an email account he accessed. He wondered if he should say something, but talk about people in glass houses he thought bitterly. When you couldn’t even be trusted to be alone for a day without breaking down you were in no position to call out other people on flirtatious emails.

~

‘I’ve had a brilliant idea,’ Ellen chirped as Mitchell walked into the flat with Anders behind him, who was having a bad tempered phone conversation. ‘I did the shopping!’ She beamed at him, handing him a cup of tea and a plate with a huge slice of fruit cake on.

‘You did the shopping?’ Mitchell said, looking puzzled. ‘How, exactly?’ He sat down at the kitchen table, rested his chin on his hand and sighed dejectedly as he watched Anders bark into his phone.

‘-look, I don’t care how good an idea Axl thinks it is and I don’t care if he is Odin,’ Anders snapped into his phone, sitting down and gratefully accepting a glass of wine from Ellen. ‘I’m not making a fake beer commercial to find the Frigg, Ty. And tell Dawn to start looking for a car for when we come back. No, I don’t know when, but soon. Soon okay? I don’t care what Mike says, look, if he comes here I’ll punch him. Okay, I’ll get John to punch him.’

Mitchell shook his head at Anders and gave his attention back to Ellen. ‘So, what did you do?’

‘I learned to use the internet!’ she said excitedly, sitting down next to him. ‘It’s marvellous isn’t it? I spent all hours looking at houses in London, I was going on Right Move and trying to guess the price before I looked.’ She looked ecstatic about this. Mitchell’s mouth fell open dumbly. ‘I’ve learnt such a lot you see from the television, I never realised how much before. I think if I wasn’t dead I’d be a surveyor.’

‘Right,’ Mitchell nodded.

‘This flat is worth over half a million, can you believe it. It’s all the rich Russians you know, pushing up prices, and the sheiks.’

‘So you shopped online?’ Mitchell said.

‘Yes! And when the delivery came I called out to the driver that I was just out the shower and could he leave it by the door and I took it in when nobody was looking.’

‘Good plan,’ Mitchell said uncertainly, with visions of their neighbours seeing bags floating into the flat. ‘How did you learn to use the internet?’

‘Your friend taught me,’ she smiled. ‘And gave me Anders’ credit card.’

Mitchell put his head up properly, giving her his full attention. ‘What friend? Carl?’

‘No, no, Jane, who looked after you last week.’

Mitchell audibly gasped. ‘What?’

‘She popped round to make sure I was okay after what happened. She was lovely and patient, not like you and Anders. She’s getting me a phone.’

‘Ma! She’s a vampire! Anders, finish your call,’ Mitchell snapped.

‘What’s the matter?’ Ellen asked, concerned at the look on Mitchell’s face.

‘Ma, Jane’s not my friend. She’s… she’s…’ he flailed, struggling to say what Jane was.

‘She was a friend to you last week,’ Ellen said gravely.

‘She has been trying to lure me back for months, it was her who gave me that damn record, she wanted me to go crazy and kill someone,’ Mitchell spluttered. ‘Ma! She’s crazy.’

‘But she works with Anders, I thought you were all friends. She told me she’s known you since 1922.’

Anders had switched his phone off and on hearing Jane’s name mentioned gave Mitchell and Ellen his full attention.

‘What’s going on?’ Anders said.

‘Mum’s only let that little … let Jane teach her how to use the internet.’

‘What?’

‘Jane, as in Jane of the photos of clothes, Anders,’ he scowled pointedly. ‘Has been teaching my mum how to use the internet.’

‘She was very nice, although she seemed worried about you,’ Ellen said, looking upset.

‘Mum! She’s one of the old vampires I told you about.’

‘You never told me about her.’

‘I wouldn’t know where to start.’ He ran his hands through his hair and tried to think.

‘Well, that’s a shame,’ Ellen said sadly. ‘Are you sure she gave you the record? She was so nice.’

‘Yes. I’m sorry, but she’s insane. You stay away from her.’

‘To be fair, she’s been alright lately,’ Anders said.

‘You have poor judgement where she’s concerned,’ Mitchell snapped.

Anders’ phone rang again, Mitchell saw Charlotte’s name flash up. ‘I’d better…’

‘Get it,’ Mitchell snarled, as Anders accepted the call and left the room. ‘This is unbelievable. Was she here?’

‘Yes.’

‘And what did she say?’

‘She said she hoped I was ok and she was worried about you and then she saw me making a shopping list and we were chatting and she said she’d show me how to work the internet.’

‘What did she say about me?’

‘She’s worried you won’t survive without blood, she’s worried Anders using his powers is going to leave you worse than dead. She said it took ages to happen, but would happen, I was going to talk to you about it. But she’s obviously in love with you, so I took it with a pinch of salt and that’s why I thought I wouldn’t get too close,’ Ellen’s voice was rising in annoyance at Mitchell’s attitude. ‘And from this reaction, I’m wondering if you’re not in love with her!’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, she’s lying and talking rubbish, some vampires have been clean for years, decades. And I love Anders, I only care about him. She’s crazy and she’s killed thousands of people, she’s very dangerous. She loves all this, being a vampire.’ He stood up, pushing back his chair so hard it fell over. ‘Don’t see her again, ever. I never wanted her to know about you, she’ll use it against me. Just do your disappearing thing if she ever comes back and you come straight to me, you understand?’

‘John!’ Ellen said. ‘I really think you’re being a bit dramatic. I know you’re embarrassed by the other day.’

‘Embarrassed?’ Mitchell said, snorting.

‘Yes, because you were… I don’t know how to say this delicately, John, but when you were feeding from her wrist you were frankly all over her and I had to look away.’ Ellen reddened.

Mitchell had the good grace to wince. ‘That was just the blood lust. I can’t stand her. Look, she’s manipulative and deceitful and she’s desperate to get me to go back to the vampires.’ He took Ellen’s hand and stroked it. ‘She’s using you, she wants to worm her way in and turn you against me.’

‘She’ll never do that, lovey, what a silly thought,’ Ellen shook her head and stroked his cheek. ‘Come on, let me make you a cup of tea.’

Anders found them after his phone call sitting in the living room. Mitchell was cradling a mug of tea and sitting on the floor, his head resting on Ellen’s knees, his other hand in hers.

‘She’s doing it with Anders, exactly the same,’ Mitchell was saying. ‘Being what he wants her to be, like she is with you. She’s pretending to be some sweet helpful friend only concerned for my welfare to you, she’s pretending to be a good time girl who likes a casual lay for Anders.’

‘But he’s a gay, lovey,’ Ellen said.

‘Ma! Come on, Anders likes women too.’

‘Oh I thought he was pretending not to be gay,’ Ellen shrugged. Anders listening behind them had to bite back laughter. ‘Oh, you’re so handsome, I’m sure he doesn’t look at anyone else.’

‘If only that were so,’ Mitchell sighed sadly, giving Anders a pang of guilt. ‘Look, the point is, Jane isn’t what she’s pretending to be to you, or to him. I’ve seen her pretend to be many things over the years. She once pretended to be my wife for six months when we were travelling in Egypt.’ He laughed a little at the memory. ‘She played the part of an upper class woman all day and only let her accent drop at night. Not one person ever guessed she wasn’t what she pretended to be. She’s very good at acting. It’s like what she’s doing with Anders, she loathes men who only want her for her body, but she’s playing this simpering flirt with him because it’s what he wants her to be.’

‘She wants to steal him off you?’

‘Only to hurt me, to make it one less thing to stop me going back to the blood and my old life. If I actually thought for one second there was anything in it I’d kill her.’

Anders swallowed, his pride wounded, then shook his head, remembering Mitchell’s dark jealousy, which had been very real and how enthusiastically Jane had fucked him.

‘How can you be certain it wasn’t true about you needing blood?’ Ellen stroked his hair back from his face as he looked up at her.

‘Please, Ma, please believe me, I’m fine. I’m more than fine. I just need the people I love to stay away from that little monster and not believe her lies. She isn’t your friend, she doesn’t want to help you, just like she doesn’t fancy Anders.’

‘Of course I believe you,’ Ellen said softly.

‘Thank god someone does,’ Mitchell said, full of relief.

Anders had had enough, he turned on his heel and walked out, slamming the door behind him. Mitchell and Ellen looked up at the same time, before Mitchell let his head fall back against Ellen’s leg and sighed dejectedly.

~

**A week later**

‘Okay, ready for movie night, you crazy kids?’ Anders said with a grin, flopping down next to Mitchell on the sofa, Ellen was sat the other side of Mitchell knitting. ‘I’ve picked a movie. _Cheerleader 2._ ’

‘Anders, I am not watching _Cheerleader 2_ with mum. Or any other time,’ Mitchell said, rolling his eyes, but picking up Anders’ hand affectionately.

‘ _Interview with a Vampire_ , then,’ Anders suggested.

‘Ha ha.’

‘The new _Dracula_.’

‘ _Thor_?’ Mitchell countered.

‘Piss off. Ellen what do you want to watch?’

‘Can’t we watch something romantic?’ Ellen asked mildly.

‘ _Brokeback Mountain_?’ Anders suggested innocently.

‘You wouldn’t like that,’ Mitchell said quickly.

‘Why not?’ Anders countered. ‘Right, there’s these two hot guys and they get down and dirty…’

‘Oh I watched it on the movie channel when you were at work a couple of weeks ago,’ Ellen replied, with a knowing smile.

‘Mum!’ Mitchell said, eyebrows raised.

‘What? It was a lovely film, a bit sad though. Let’s watch something funny.’

‘ _Cheerleader 2_ is funny.’

Mitchell scowled at Anders, who’d grabbed the remote and was flicking through Netflix, then laughed at the smirk he got back. ‘Let’s show mum _Jaws_ , she’s never seen it,’ Mitchell suggested, knowing it was one of Anders’ favourites.

‘Alright, but next time I get to choose.’

‘You want a cup of tea boys?’ Ellen asked, standing up as Mitchell went through the selection of films on Netflix.

‘Can I have beer?’ Anders asked. ‘And there’s popcorn, just get a load of stuff from John’s snack cupboard.’

‘It’s not my snack cupboard.’ Mitchell complained as Ellen laughed and went to the kitchen.

‘Never had a cupboard full of crisps, sweets and cake until you moved in. Your diet is terrible.’

Mitchell shrugged. ‘I’ve been eating crap since 1917 and I don’t look a day over twenty-four.’

Anders grinned and snuggled up to him. Mitchell wrapped his arms around Anders and kissed his temple.

‘What’s that for?’ Anders asked.

‘Just because I love you and you’re brilliant.’

‘I know I am.’

‘And modest,’ Mitchell said, squeezing him. ‘Seriously though, you put up with so much from me, you’re amazing. I don’t deserve you.’

‘Don’t start with that. What you deserve it a damn good seeing to. You reckon your mum will go for one of her night time strolls later?’

‘Maybe, but we can still, you know.’

‘Fuck?’

‘Shushh! Yes. Just quietly.’

‘Yes, but I like it when you make me scream,’ Anders whispered in his ear, smiling as Mitchell almost growled deep in his chest. ‘I missed you this week, in the office,’ Anders said softly.

‘I needed to spend some time with mum after, you know. And there’s nothing for me to do now anyway.’

‘But I like having you around.’

‘Aw, really?’

‘Yeah, I mean you can’t type, file, take a sensible message and you’re not as co-operative as Dawn, in fact you’re surly, rude and insubordinate, but you’re very decorative.’

‘Decorative?’ Mitchell asked, eyebrow raised. Anders smiled and lifted a hand to Mitchell’s hair, stroking his curls.

‘Yeah. Hey, is my hair getting too long, I’ll be like you soon,’ he said, twirling a curl around his finger.

Mitchell looked at Anders, his hair was a little longer on top and lighter from the sun. ‘Leave it, you look lovely,’ he said softly, leaning into kiss Anders. Anders opened his mouth immediately, let Mitchell lean into him and felt that warmth spread through him for the first time since Mitchell’s meltdown.

Mitchell slowly broke away from Anders, resting their foreheads together. ‘Shall we go out tomorrow? On our own?’ Anders asked, slightly tentatively.

‘That would be great,’ Mitchell smiled.

‘Maybe even stay in a hotel?’

‘We could do that,’ Mitchell said smiling. ‘What did you want to do?’ He had his hand on Anders’ hip and was pressing little butterfly kisses to Anders’ fingers, which he held in his hand.

‘Oh, you know, have dinner, get drunk. Hey, let’s get drunk and do one of those ghost tours of the East End, you know haunted London crap. Some tour group asked me to do their PR the other week, I told them to get lost.’

‘What? Are you crazy?’

‘It would be funny, Jane told me she did one once and ended up chatting to loads of girls who’d been murdered in this street in the City that used to be where the prostitutes hung out and the tour guide thought she was mentally ill and offered to take her to the doctors so Jane killed him.’

‘And that’s made you want to go?’

‘It sounds like a laugh.’ Mitchell dropped Anders’ hand and was no longer caressing his hip.

‘Anders, what’s happened to you? When did a story ending in Jane killing someone become something that _sounds like a laugh_?’ he shook his head. ‘This is what it’s done to you, working for them. It becomes normal, you think it’s normal.’

‘It wasn’t like she dwelt on the killing bit,’ Anders said defensively.

‘No, the killing bit was casually dropped in, because that’s what killing is to her. And you accepted it because cleaning up after casual murder is what you do now.’

‘For you, I do it for you.’

‘And the vast amounts of money. You don’t exactly seem like a man with a troubled conscience.’

Mitchell sat up and pulled away from Anders.

‘Well, what’s your alternative? You want me to weep about it every night? Not do it and let them kill you?’ Anders bristled. ‘And you won’t go to New Zealand, which was the plan, before you went mental and then your mum showed up.’

‘Don’t blame mum!’

‘I’m not, I’m blaming her, I blame you entirely. You’re an emotional basket case. I don’t know why, your mum is lovely, now my family I can see why we’re all fucked up one way or another, but she’s what mothers should be.’

‘So fucked up covering up endless murders doesn’t bother you.’

‘At least I didn’t do the endless murders. It’s really a bit rich coming from you after I’ve read that police report from Bristol.’

Mitchell stiffened and said nothing, but lowered his head shamefully.

‘You’re not a vampire,’ Mitchell said at last. ‘Doesn’t it bother you at all?’

‘Of course it does, I hate blood,’ Anders snapped. ‘Just because I keep it together, and let’s face it someone has to, because we never know when you’re next going to go off the rails. I don’t like it, but it has to be done, you know that.’

‘I’m not happy about it. Or you fucking flirting with Jane, I mean what does she have to do to convince you she’s a complete nutcase?’ he said, incredulously as he remembered the emails again.

‘Well, you tell me, from what she says you’ve spent enough time together. And it wasn’t exactly all sightseeing and dinner dates.’

‘Look, whatever she tells you, there’s an agenda. She wants to get to me, she wants to push us apart, just ignore her.’ He folded his arms, face like thunder. ‘I’m going to tell Charlotte the deal’s off unless she keeps Jane away from you.’

‘What? Look, it’s not all about you all the time. I hate to tell you this but they wanted me because I’m a god, an actual god, which makes me pretty bloody powerful. It was nothing to do with being with you, though I definitely think Jane’s up for a threesome. You’re just jealous she’s got the hots for me more than you.’

‘Rubbish. I’m going to speak to Charlotte in the morning.’

‘Sorry, since when did you get to decide everything? I’m the one putting my ass on the line for these people.’

‘Oh, you’re bothered now?’

‘Look, I deal with stuff, ok? Just because I don’t weep and wail every fucking night doesn’t mean I don’t care.’

‘You’re too busy checking your bank balance.’

‘Good job one of us has a bank balance.’

‘Fuck you. You know, you are a blind, selfish prick where that woman is concerned. And it frightens me how easily money makes you forget everything they’ve done.’

‘They?’ Anders said simply, knowing that was the surest way to prick Mitchell’s self-righteousness. ‘Help me out here, I forget, out of the twenty, how many were you and how many were Daisy?’

Anders felt anger bubbling. As if this whole thing wasn’t Mitchell’s fault, why shouldn’t he have fun with Jane if he had to work for fucking vampires? He shook his head and moved along the sofa, away from Mitchell, ignoring him pointedly. Mitchell had flushed, his face furious at Anders’ jibe.

Their stony silence was interrupted by Ellen who almost slammed their snacks on the coffee table and stood over them.

‘Did I hear that right?’ she said, her eyes flashing with fury. ‘That you’re covering up murders for vampires? And being paid for it?’

‘It’s not really his fault,’ Mitchell said quickly, coming to Anders’ defence despite their angry words. ‘They were going to kill me, they used me to get to Anders, the Old Ones know he’s a god. Anders agreed to do it to get them off my case.’

‘The plan was we’d do it for a couple of months then go home, to New Zealand.’ Anders voice was flat. He hadn’t realised it would hurt to disappoint Ellen. ‘I had to send Dawn, my assistant home, she was in danger and she’s set up the business there,’ Anders said defensively. ‘I lost my assistant, my brother thinks I’ve endangered her, I’ve lost all my normal business and now have Mitchell and an uptight ghost running my company.’

‘So why are you still here?’ Ellen asked, incredulously. ‘Why didn’t you go to New Zealand?’

Mitchell and Anders looked at each other. Ellen sat on the chair opposite them. ‘It’s because of me, isn’t it?’ she said quietly.

‘I thought you’d take your door now you know I’m okay and then we’d go,’ Mitchell said at last.

‘There hasn’t been a door,’ Ellen said softly. ‘It’s not time.’

Mitchell looked up at her. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I didn’t know things would be like this, when I started looking for you,’ Ellen began. ‘I thought you’d be with the likes of Herrick, I thought you’d be killing people…’ she leaned forward and took Mitchell’s hand in her own. ‘I didn’t know you’d have someone you love, that you’d have all this.’

‘Surely that’s a good thing, you know I’m alright,’ Mitchell said. ‘I mean, Anders can look after me.’

‘By taking money off vampires to cover up their mess?’ Ellen scowled, Anders noticed her eyes were the same as Mitchell’s when she was annoyed, the same darkness came over their faces.

‘He did that for me!’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said quickly. ‘I didn’t mean that. I just… I’m surprised you’d do such a thing,’ she said to Anders, the look of disappointment on her face making Anders’ heart sink. Ellen took her rosary from her pocket and began twisting it in her fingers. She looked at Mitchell. ‘I thought I’d take you with me, that was my plan. But now you have all this.’ She waved an arm around the room and then reached out and took Anders’ hand. ‘I knew from the minute John started talking about you he adored you,’ she told Anders, who looked embarrassed. ‘I knew he wouldn’t leave you.’

‘What do you mean?’ Anders said, confused and starting to get that sickening feeling in his stomach.

‘I’d arranged it so John could come through the door with me, to his father and brothers and sisters. He’d still be a vampire there, but he wouldn’t need blood, he couldn’t harm anyone and he wouldn’t be alone in the world, he’d have his family back.’

Anders froze, he wanted to speak, but his throat felt dry and he thought he might be sick.

‘Oh, Ma,’ Mitchell said, he eyes watery with unshed tears. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t.’

‘I know. So, I don’t know where I’ll go, or when. I can’t make a door come.’

‘We want you to stay, don’t we, Anders?’ Mitchell said, going to hug his mother.

‘Of course we do,’ Anders said blankly. He watched Mitchell comfort his mother and felt as if he was observing the scene from a distance. He could feel Bragi echoing around his mind, he could hear that constant hum more clearly, an impenetrable babble of old Norse words, all telling him the same, repeating what he was screaming inside, _he’s going to leave you._

Anders wasn’t really listening after that. Mitchell eventually put the film on and sat between them both, but Anders felt, paying far more attention to his mother and barely reciprocating the small touches from Anders. He had his arm around Ellen’s shoulders and was playing with the rosary beads in his other hand, twisting them around like worry beads, untroubled by the crucifix as they belonged to his beloved mother. Anders lost interest in the film and began to play with his phone, scrolling through pictures idly in his porn folder, feeling aggrieved none were of Mitchell, as if it was spite on Mitchell’s part stopping him from photographing him.

Anders then got a message from Jane. _Need you in Newham tomorrow handsome. Not me, I wouldn’t fuck you in Newham, it’s a shithole. We’ll fuck somewhere fancy._

Anders smiled to himself and typed back, _Anywhere in mind?_

_I live in Highgate,_ came the reply.

_What you wearing?_ Anders typed, imagining the possibilities. Imagining Jane pulling her long hair out the back of a dress and shaking her curls out, he also pictured the curve of her breasts, the way they sat so perfectly on her chest, small and beautiful, his hand cupping them.

Half way through the film Anders got up. ‘I’ll be back in a minute, got a message, work call,’ he mumbled, fiddling with his phone. He was typing a text: _what you wearing?_ And hit send. Mitchell sighed and nodded.

He was slipping his shoes on when the reply came back. _Purple dress, no underwear_. Anders felt a grim satisfaction and the stirrings of lust.

_I’m coming to take it off_ he typed by way of a reply as he grabbed his jacket.

‘John, I’ve got to pop out, won’t be too long,’ he said, not even bothering to go and give Mitchell a kiss goodbye.

‘Are you okay?’ Mitchell asked, finally getting up and walking towards him, looking concerned.

‘Fine, got to go. See you later.’ Anders smiled half-heartedly and watched as Mitchell went back to his mum and whispered to her, before turning back to the film.

~

Anders knew it was madness, what he was doing, he knew as he knocked on the red door and walked up the stairs into the neat bedroom, with girlish pink walls and a floral bedspread. He knew it wasn’t just foolish, it was dangerous as he unzipped the purple dress and watched the small figure step out of it and turn, her small perfect breasts partially covered by her long dark curls. Anders knew as he kissed down her body, tasting her, settling between her legs as he had long fantasised about, that he was doing something stupid, dangerous and cruel.

But he wanted to prove Mitchell wrong, prove that he hadn’t just been taken in by a liar and as she sucked his cock Anders smugly thought of Mitchell’s words to his mother. And fuck Mitchell anyway, he was a god, he was a fucking god and if wasn’t going to be guilt tripped by Mitchell anymore. Jesus, what did a guy have to do to prove his devotion? He even put up with a ghost for a mother-in-law. So Anders kissed Jane and gave into his lust. He let her straddle him, fuck him as he kissed and sucked at her breasts, something he quickly learnt elicited the most delicious moans that made him even harder for her.

‘Make your eyes go black,’ he whispered, thrusting up into her hard.

‘Ohh, you’re a bad, bad boy,’ Jane replied with a laugh, before closing her eyes. When she opened them they were black and she bared her fangs, hissing. Anders let out a cry of exhilaration as he gripped her hips as she started moving faster, intent on her own pleasure. He felt the god in him more than usual, he was saying stuff, he didn’t know what, but she was coming and biting his chest and he felt alive, truly alive, because you could only feel so alive when you faced death and death was fucking herself on him and he had conquered death.

Anders came with Bragi on his lips, barely aware of the pain on his chest where Jane had bitten him as he pulled her to him, her long dark curls covering them both as they panted and Jane licked at the blood seeping down Anders chest as he held her.

It was afterwards, when Jane was in the shower, scrubbing herself as she did after nearly all her sexual encounters, shedding tears because Anders blood had tasted bad, almost shaking with fear that he’d blunted her vampirism with his words, it was only then that Anders realised he’d have a hard time explaining the puncture marks on his chest. His chest hair was matted with streaks of blood and Anders felt a disgust that went beyond his distaste for blood. There was no Bragi now, just Anders standing alone and cold in this alien pink bedroom, missing the dark chest hairs he usually laid his head on after sex, feeling more alone than he ever had.

Mitchell would know, he always knew. Even if he wasn’t angry he’d think Anders didn’t love him and he’d certainly lose Ellen’s good opinion, which he now realised he cared for. It had been nice having a mother figure for once, even if she wasn’t his mother, she had taken him to her heart and Anders had been a very small boy the last time he’d had that kind of nurturing care. Mitchell was now almost certain to go with his mother through a door Anders could never follow him through.  Anders almost wished for a door himself.


	21. The bright side of being dead is that smoking can’t kill me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders has made a stupid decision, even by the standards of his own stupid decision making. And things are about to get worse, as the lady in question reveals just how dangerous she really is. 
> 
> Meanwhile Mitchell chain smokes.

Anders hadn’t slept much. He was surprised how much Jane slept, he watched her thinking how very young she looked asleep. Young and innocent. He snorted to himself and got out of bed. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he looked at the time, four-fifteen am. There were three missed calls and a series of texts from Mitchell, the last one simply saying _fuck you then, I can guess where you are and what you’re doing._ Anders rubbed his face and pulled his clothes on, wondering if Mitchell would even be there when he got home.

He pushed that thought aside, trying to remember all the indiscretions Mitchell had forgiven before. It wasn’t as if he was a saint himself, Anders still remembered the horrible hour he’d spent in Carl’s kitchen listening to Mitchell and Carl feeding from their willing volunteers, he still didn’t know if he was more jealous that Mitchell had been fucking one of the girls or that Carl had been watching Mitchell fucking one of the girls. This was different of course.

He turned to look at Jane and briefly thought of kissing her goodbye, but then she rolled over and her mouth fell open slightly, revealing a sharp fang in her upper jaw. Anders remembered the marks on his chest and as well as the excitement he felt when she let her eyes go black. He shook his head and went downstairs.

His plan of sneaking out didn’t go quite as expected though. To say Jane was security conscious was an understatement, everything was bolted, locked and alarmed without any sign of a key. He tried both front and back doors, despite knowing a high solid gate meant he’d be pretty much stuck even if he did get into the back garden.

After half an hour of trying and searching for keys in her immaculate house Anders gave up and went back to bed. It was strange seeing Jane’s house, it was all very feminine and he found it old fashioned to his taste, too much floral and pastels and she seemed to have a penchant for figurines of fairies, which were on the mantelpiece and in the hall. He didn’t feel like slipping back into bed beside her so looked for a spare room. On the first floor there was Jane’s master bedroom, a second bedroom and a large bathroom with pearlescent pink tiles and a fluffy pink bath mat. The room looked odd until Anders realised it was because there was no mirror over the sink.

The second bedroom had no bed, but rows of rails holding Jane’s many clothes and shelves lined with shoes. He stepped into the room. There was a huge cupboard on one wall, opening it he saw shelves full of neatly folded clothes, hats, scarves arranged according to colour, drawers with neat dividers containing t-shirts, underwear and socks, again all arranged by colour. Anders closed the cupboards and left the room, wondering how anyone who arranged their belongings so neatly could ever have lived with Mitchell, who’s wardrobe was more often than not strewn across the floor.

The third bedroom didn’t have a bed either, but was wallpapered with flower fairies, making Anders wrinkle his nose in disgust. This room had a big ornate antique vanity in it, with a little stool and a pair of pink slippers tucked neatly underneath it. This was evidently where Jane kept her make up. There were rows of lipsticks lined up on the table top, a large mauve jewellery box and necklaces hanging from the mirror frame. The mirror had been taken out and replaced with a drawing of Jane in charcoal, it looked like ones you sometimes got from street artists in summer. The artist had done a good job Anders thought, she looked beautiful and mischievous. He wondered how old it was as her hair was different, shorter and her curls were more puffed up.

He backed out of that room too and made his way up the stairs to the second floor. There were only two rooms on this floor. One was a bedroom, it had dark purple sheets and the room, so unlike the rest of the house, was dark and gothic looking with black book shelves. Anders nearly let out a cry when he saw that the shapes on the bed were bodies, wrapped in bedsheets. He backed out, feeling a wave of panic. He unthinkingly stumbled into the next room, which was a kind of office. There was a white desk, a notice board with postcards on it, three filing cabinets, they looked like the white IKEA sort Dawn wanted for his office and cupboards again. Curious Anders opened the cupboards. All of them were full of files and box files, neatly labelled with dates, places and names. Anders opened his mouth in amazement, here was Jane’s life, her long life laid out neatly in box files. He wondered what was in them and automatically began to scan for any reference to Mitchell.

He didn’t have to look in the cupboard for that though. On the desk a box file was out, John Mitchell 1922-1985 was neatly written in the side. Anders couldn’t help it, he sat down and opened the box. It was fully of letters, some postcards, there were tickets too, he picked up a stub for a theatre ticket from 1954. But it was the letters that intrigued him. He rifled through them, knowing that this box contained the answer he had always wanted, the answer Mitchell would never give about what this woman meant to him. He pulled out a letter from the pile at random, it was written on thick manila paper in black ink. Mitchell’s writing was neater then, was Anders’ first thought as he began to read.

_15 th September 1934_

_Dearest Jane,_

_I hope this finds you well. Herrick and I are back in Bristol now and life is returning to its old routines. It seems so terribly dull without you and I wish you would reconsider joining me here. We were visited by Ivan briefly, who remembered you fondly and was as much fun as you promised, much to Herrick’s dismay. I’m sure you know what I mean, he promised he’d fill you in on the details when he sees you in London. I hope you will not be disappointed, my love, to have missed out, it was perfect but for your absence._

_I sometimes feel as if you are the only one who understands me and I long for your company again. Herrick is sport enough, but he disapproves of the boys and I feel always holds me back, as if I might cause too much damage. He wants to see me unleashed, but only so he can rein me in. I feel I am a weapon and bait sometimes. But I should not complain about my maker, should I? We have fun and there’s pickings enough._

_I have read and taken to my heart the contents of your last letter and, my love, while you must know how jealous it makes me to think of you with another, I will think of your words when that jealousy rises and I promise not to be rash again. I know one day I will be by your side, when I have proven myself worthy of being your prince. Believe me, all I do is now is towards that aim. One day I too will be a great vampire and we will be the king and queen of blood as you rightly say._

_In the meantime be assured of my love and loyalty. You know the others I take to my bed are merely for sport and that nobody comes close to you in beauty or in my desire. I miss you and the fun we have._

_All my love, John. xxxx_

Anders dropped the letter, stunned by such declarations. Whatever Mitchell might say now and he sounded besotted. He picked up another. This was dated 1975 and written in biro on a blue sheet of writing paper.

_18 th June 1975_

_Dear Jane,_

_It was lovely to see you again and I’ve missed you more than I realised. I hope you got back safely and Charlotte isn’t too difficult. I’m settled back to life in Bristol just fine. In fact it’s like I was never away. It seems strange to think I went all that time with so little blood._

_I don’t know if I can make the trip to Spain, Herrick is loathe to let me go off since my time with Josie, he keeps inventing urgent reasons for me to stay. Maybe you can persuade him? I’d love a trip to the Costas, such easy pickings aren’t they? I miss you already and I can’t wait to kiss you and bury myself inside you again. I can still taste you when I close my eyes and I’m sure you can guess what I’ve done with the knickers you left behind, you naughty girl. You’re going to get the fuck of your life when I see you next._

_When you’re settled again, send me your number. It’s about time we tried out this phone sex craze!_

_Missing you always,_

_Love, Mitchell xxx_

Anders had had enough, he flicked through the pile, most were older, but there were loads. He couldn’t bear to read anymore, catching sight of the _Dearest Janes_ and _All my loves_ on the letters. He put the letters back in the box and shut it, feeling sick with jealousy. The sex stuff he didn’t care about, but the loving declarations, the long lifetime of affection, how could he compete with that? He blindly wandered down the stairs, not now realising it was past 6am. Jane wasn’t in her bed, Anders rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock, cursing under his breath. He headed down the next flight of stairs and smelt coffee and hard Jane’s harsh tones from the kitchen, he stopped and waited in the hallway. She had a big white dressing gown on and was making herself coffee with an expresso pot on the stove, whilst barking into her mobile.

‘I can do it now, just cos it tastes disgusting don’t mean I can’t rip ‘is throat out.’ She rolled her eyes as the person on the other end shouted into the phone, but not loudly enough that Anders could hear. Jane set the phone on the side and switched on speaker phone.

‘-and you’re to promise me not a finger!’ Charlotte barked, harshly.

‘Why though? ‘E ain’t one of us, is ‘e? We should be more concerned with Mitchell.’

‘Mitchell is a liability, he’s dangerous and unstable and I have never understood your fascination with him.’

‘You know ‘e could be the greatest?’ she said, checking her expresso pot and pausing. ‘Or maybe that’s why you don’t like ‘im? An’ Anders is going to end up worse than killing him. I ‘ave done everything to bring ‘im back into the fold, I ain’t watching ‘im waste away. I’d rather put a stake through ‘is ‘eart.’

‘Jane, if you lay one finger on Anders…’

‘Look, e’s cute, but ‘e ain’t worth it. We managed for thousands of years without ‘im!’

‘Anders is much more important and useful than Mitchell will ever be. I couldn’t give a fig about that boy, he’s all over the place, I’ve had hopes for him before, but as far as I’m concerned he can go to dust!’

‘No!’ Jane shrieked. ‘I can make ‘im one of us again. But only if we get rid of Anders.’

‘I forbid you to lay a finger on Anders,’ Charlotte said sternly. ‘You’ve tried everything and Mitchell isn’t interested. And by the way, I don’t think fucking his boyfriend is going to endear you to him much.’

‘I know ‘e wants me, I know. ‘E was all over me the other week when that Bragi shite wore off, e’d have been fucking me if that ghost ‘adn’t been there.’

‘Can you stop talking about fucking those boys? I never understood you and your obsession with having sex. You don’t even like sex.’

‘I do sometimes.’

‘So you enjoyed having Anders fuck you?’

‘Sort of. I can say I’ve fucked a god.’ She poured her coffee and put a slice of bread in the toaster.

‘Well, if I had to have someone sweating and heaving over me then I’d rather have him than Mitchell, who looks frankly unhygienic,’ Charlotte said with immense distaste.

‘Mitchell’s one of the only men I ever enjoyed it wiv actually. ‘E’s special.’

‘Jane, I’m warning you not to do anything foolish. I’ve never let you down, that greasy ape has never stopped letting you down.’

‘I ain’t promising nuffin’,’ she snapped, before clicking the phone off and taking a sip off coffee.

Anders walked into the kitchen, he didn’t realise he was shaking slightly until he rested his hand on the kitchen counter. He was wondering if he’d heard right, but he was pretty sure Jane was threatening to kill him to get Mitchell back. It looked like her tale from last week had been the truth after all.

‘Morning,’ he said grimly.

‘Mornin’, ‘andsome. Coffee?’

‘No. I’m going home. Can you let me out please?’

‘You can check out but you can never leave,’ she smirked. ‘I should get that over the door.’

‘Just let me out. And don’t mention this to Mitchell.’

‘Won’t ‘e want to join in? Think of the fun we could ‘ave.’

‘He might not see it that way. Anyway, you were going to let me out?’

‘Not staying for coffee? That’s rude, Anders. I’m ‘urt.’

‘I need to go and see Mitchell. Let me out,’ Anders said firmly as she showed no signs of moving.

‘So you can go and neuter ‘im? Go and turn ‘im into a ‘ollow wreck of a man by taking away the thing that makes ‘im what ‘e is? He’s one hundred and nineteen, ‘ow do you think that ‘appened?’

‘Jane, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here, can you open the door?’

‘’Ad a row, did yer?’

‘Not exactly. Look, will you fucking let me out!’ he shouted, losing his temper.

She was on him in a flash, he didn’t see where the knife came from but it was at his throat and she was holding him by the neck, her grip like iron, raising him off the floor choking him. Her eyes were black and she bared her teeth with a hiss. Anders was shaking and wondering how he’d ever found that sexy, it was just terrifying.

‘Let go,’ he spluttered.

‘You fucker,’ she spat, pointing the tip of the knife at the soft part under his chin, drawing blood with a sting that brought him out in a cold sweat.

_‘Let go of me!’_ he cried, finding Bragi at last. She suddenly let go, turning her head and grimacing. _‘Get away from me and let me out!_ ’ he commanded, taking a gulping breath, his heart racing.

Jane was twisted away from him, Bragi’s words having a terrible effect on her. She dropped the knife, sending it clattering to the floor and reached for a white biscuit jar on the kitchen counter, leaning on the side of the counter for support. She reached in the jar and threw a key at him. It hit the hall floor and Anders scrambled to pick it up.

‘ _Now you stay away, don’t follow me_ ,’ Bragi commanded, weakly. Anders was scared, he was tired, shaken by what Ellen had said, the letters and now Jane trying to kill him. He fumblingly put the key in the lock as Jane snarled at him from the kitchen, her arm shielding her face. She was animalistic and feral, he looked up as he finally got the door open. There was nothing beautiful about her now, she was simply terrifying as she snapped and hissed at him. He slammed the door shut and ran.

~

Ellen had sat with Mitchell all night, perched on the side of the bed, watching her son fitfully try to sleep. He’d dropped off from sheer exhaustion at about four, but now lay awake, staring at the ceiling, ignoring the tea she had made.

‘Do you want a cigarette?’ she asked softly. He nodded wordlessly. She reached for his packet and got one out, putting it to her mouth and lighting it before handing it to him. ‘There you go, lovey. That’ll make you feel better. I don’t believe all this nonsense about them being harmful, they calm your nerves.’

‘I’m already dead anyway,’ Mitchell said flatly, propping himself up slightly to smoke.

‘That’s it, look on the bright side,’ she soothed. Mitchell looked at her askance.

‘The bright side of being dead is that smoking can’t kill me?’

‘Nothing’s all bad, is it? Oh, lovey, he’ll be back. You said yourself this has happened before. I was watching a programme about gay hustlers in San Francisco one night, I think it was on channel five, but anyway, it’s very normal for gays to go and have extra-marital sex. Well it is in San Francisco. They said sex to men isn’t linked to emotional attachment, it’s a purely physical act.’

‘He’s not with a man, I’d fuckin’ kill him if he was with a man,’ Mitchell muttered. Ellen sighed and stroked his hair. ‘He’s with Jane, I’m sure of it. It’s happened before. It’s always women.’

‘What do you mean, always women? How much has it happened?’

‘Not so much lately, I mean only with Jane. And I think only once. But in the beginning, we weren’t really exclusive. It was my fault, I told him I wanted to be casual, but I’m sure there were loads. And his Idunn, the goddess that Bragi is married to.’

‘Anders is married?’ Ellen looked confused.

‘No, but you know how we explained that his brother who’s Odin has to find his Frigg, Bragi has a beloved too, Idunn. And they can’t keep their hands off each other if they meet. And they met.’ He looked up and saw the distressed look on his mother’s face. ‘It’s ok, she’s in America now. They can’t stand each other, it’s just something they can’t help, like a compulsion.’

‘He has a compulsion to sleep with women?’

‘Not women, just Idunn. The others is just Anders being Anders,’ Mitchell sighed sadly. Ellen bent down and gave him a hug, not knowing what to say.

‘I’m sorry, lovey. I liked him too, even though he’s a bit… you know.’

‘I love him,’ Mitchell shrugged as she straightened up again. ‘And he’ll come back and act like nothing’s happened and I’ll ignore it.’ Mitchell stubbed his cigarette out and began fidgeting, agitated.

‘Here,’ Ellen said, lighting another cigarette for him. Mitchell took it gratefully. ‘Are you ignoring it because you need him, you need Bragi?’

‘I need Bragi and I need Anders,’ Mitchell said, starting to get upset. ‘I love him, I’ve never loved anyone like this. All the others in my long life… I’ve never loved anyone like him.’

Ellen furrowed her brow and began to fidget with the rosary beads in her pocket. ‘When I had my chat with Carl, you know the big one when I told him about Dan, he said something about you. He said you fall in love easily. Mr Winston said the same. That you always think this is the one.’

‘This is the one,’ Mitchell said, defiant. ‘The others were mainly human, they didn’t understand me and I could kill them, it was always a risk. With Anders… I never wanted his blood, he makes me human, even before he started using his powers on me. And he makes me laugh and we like doing the same stuff. He’s just got his downside, that’s all.’

‘He’s a bastard, so he is,’ Ellen said, a really edge of anger in her voice. She pulled at the cuff of her blouse. ‘I could kill the little sod.’

‘Don’t say anything, please,’ Mitchell begged. ‘I mean look at me, what sort of man or woman could ever live with me? I’m hardly a saint.’ Mitchell closed his eyes, determined not to cry. ‘I couldn’t be with someone who was pure and good, because I’ve done such things, Ma, I’ve done such terrible things and those people could never understand what that does to you. Anders doesn’t judge me. He knows what I am and what I’ve done, he knows the worst of it and he still loves me, he knows things you don’t and he doesn’t flinch and he doesn’t hate me.’

‘Did the others?’

‘Annie did.’

‘Did your friend, George?’

‘He wasn’t my lover.’

‘But he knew?’

‘He knew,’ Mitchell said softly. ‘And he was a good person. There’s not a day I don’t miss him.’

‘So there’s other people who will still love you, not just Anders.’

‘I haven’t spoken to George in over two years,’ Mitchell said grimly. ‘And it’s not the same, not the same as with Anders. I love Anders more than anything.’

Ellen sighed and picked up his free hand. ‘You have to work it out then, sweetheart,’ she said softly. ‘But, John, hurting someone like this, that isn’t love.’

‘He doesn’t mean to do it,’ Mitchell said through gritted teeth.

They both looked up at the same time as they heard the front door bang on its hinges and Anders burst into the room, he had no jacket, was dishevelled and had blood running down his neck. Mitchell gasped, then jumped up straightaway, running to him.

‘What happened?’ Mitchell cried, worried and distressed, his hands on Anders’ shoulders.

‘She tried to fucking kill me,’ Anders cried. ‘With a knife! She fucking…’ he was panting and shaking. ‘She fucking put a knife to my throat and she’s going to kill me because she’s mad and thinks I’m going to kill you because you have to have blood. And there were letters, she’s kept all your letters and she’s in love with you and she’s coming to kill me and Charlotte said she’d rather you were dead. Oh fuck.’

He leaned weakly against the wall. Mitchell put his fists to his head and let out a cry of frustration.

‘Jesus!’ he cried. ‘You go for a cheap lay and you end up nearly getting killed? Where is she now?’

‘I used my powers on her.’

‘So she’s floored?’

‘Not exactly. Don’t look at me like that!’ he cried at Mitchell’s look of incredulity. ‘She had a fucking knife and she had me up against the wall, she’s so strong!’

‘I know! I warned you! I told you she’s insane, I told you she’s dangerous!’ Mitchell shouted. ‘But oh no, you just saw her fucking tits!’

‘Well you’re a fine one to talk! You’re the one who’s been writing her love letters for the last century!’

‘I have not!’

‘She kept them!’

‘She keeps everything, she’s really OCD. Jesus, does she know you’ve been poking around her house?’ Mitchell sounded panicked. ‘She’ll fucking kill you!’

‘She’s going to kill me anyway!’

‘Then we go, we have the passport, we can go to New Zealand. Book a flight and get packing.’ Mitchell went to the wardrobe and pulled out a holdall and chucked it at Anders. He then rummaged around and pulled out three wooden stakes.

‘What the fuck are those?’ Anders cried. ‘How long have they been there?’

‘A while.’

‘I thought you got rid of your arsenal when your mum came?’

‘Not quite.’ He threw a stake to Anders and to his mother.

‘What’s going on?’ Ellen asked, anguished, looking at Mitchell.

‘Jane wants to kill Anders. If you see her, stake her, straight through the heart. Have you got your rosary?’

‘Yes,’ Ellen said, reaching in her pocket.

‘Give it to Anders, you have your crucifix,’ he said, pointing to the silver around her neck.  Ellen nodded and passed the wooden beads to Anders, placing them carefully around his neck.

‘They’re not meant to be worn, but best to keep them where you can find them,’ she said. He looked up at her, eyes guilty. Ellen brought her hand back and slapped him hard across the cheek, Anders stumbled back, gasping and clutching at his face.

‘Ma!’ Mitchell cried.

‘That is for last night,’ Ellen snapped, her face furious. ‘Don’t you ever do that to him again.’

Anders leaned against the wall again, clutching his cheek which was bright red. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said softly.

Mitchell gave his mother a glare. ‘What happened to your chin?’

‘She had a knife!’ Anders cried, putting his fingers to the blood. He was shaking and pale. Mitchell pulled a rucksack out the wardrobe and threw it on the bed. He looked at Anders again.

‘Hey,’ he said gently. Anders looked small and scared. Mitchell crossed the room and took him in his arms. ‘It’s ok, I’m going to take care of it.’

‘You’re going to stake her?’ Anders asked, sounding frightened still.

‘Of course he is,’ Ellen said, her voice hard and face determined. ‘Seeing as the alternative is she kills you and ensnares John back to a life a murder and mayhem.’

Mitchell nodded, his face blank. Anders noticed the same hardness had come over his eyes as when he’d been intent on killing all vampires. But even then he’d shied away from Jane.

‘Ellen?’ Anders said, astonished.

‘Did you think I’d go through all that to let a vampire snatch my son away again?’ Ellen said. She opened a drawer and began to pull out t-shirts and put them in the flight bag on the bed. ‘Get packing.’

~

It had been surprisingly quick to pack the stuff they wanted to take with them, clothes, laptop, tablets and chargers went in the bags. There was very little of sentimental value that Anders owned, the odd trinket or souvenir from his time with Mitchell and that was it. Mitchell had left most of his life in Bristol. He wondered if it was still in the pink house.

Mitchell didn’t know what to think about Anders now. Anders was pale and frightened, he kept going on about his fish until Mitchell promised that he’d ask Mr Winston to feed them. He seemed more upset about the fish than anything else. But he was deflated. No doubt the shock of Jane’s violence and ego-deflating revelation she had been using him all along was a lot to take. Mitchell would have been sympathetic if he wasn’t so angry about Anders sleeping with her. He knew why he’d done it of course, he’d been lashing out, trying to hurt Mitchell, fearful of him disappearing through a door that he couldn’t follow him through.

Anders was now on the phone booking a flight, he’d got a cancellation, it was expensive, but that didn’t matter. Mitchell watched him giving his credit card details and wondered what New Zealand would be like and what Anders’ family was really like, he’d known Ty of course and he and Anders were completely different. He was intrigued, would New Zealand hold the answers as to why Anders was such a fucking prick at times and why he was trying to sabotage what they had? Mitchell had no doubts Anders loved him, a man like Anders wouldn’t do all this for anything less. He’d love to find out what had made him like this though, what had caused this streak of destructiveness and selfishness.

Mitchell watched him staring at his fish when he’d ended the phone call and went to sit beside him on the arm of the sofa.

‘Flight’s at eleven tonight,’ Anders said. ‘I’ve messaged Dawn.’

‘It’ll be nice to see your home, your real home.’

Anders said nothing for a while then put his hand over Mitchell’s. ‘My fish died, the ones in New Zealand, useless Grandpa forgot about them.’

‘We’ll get some new ones.’

‘You don’t like the sun.’

‘I’ll wear a hat, I have sunglasses. I lived in Cairo for six months once.’

‘When was that?’

‘We were travelling through the Middle East, it was all British or French in those days, we lost our passports and had to wait for new ones to be arranged, not that easy in our cases.’ Mitchell remembered the officers club they frequented, its wooden panelled rooms and posters of alpine resorts a welcome restbite from the dirt and heat of the city; he remembered Jane washing her hair daily to get rid of the dust and sand. An image of him standing behind her in the shower of the hotel popped into his head, he was helping her rinse the suds out of her hair, holding her from behind, asking her permission to hunt that evening. He shuddered at the memory and squeezed Anders’ hand.

‘Is _we_ you and Herrick or you and Jane?’

‘Me and Jane,’ Mitchell said quietly. ‘Herrick didn’t really travel a lot, he didn’t want anyone stealing his crown in Bristol.’

‘Will you take it?’ Anders asked.

‘What?’

‘The door?’

‘What door?’ Mitchell asked, before it hit him. ‘What with mum?’

‘Yeah, I didn’t actually think you’d be here when I got back, you know.’

‘What? Anders…’ Mitchell groaned. ‘Did we have a completely different conversation to the one you heard? I said I couldn’t go as I had you and mum said she knew I never would because I love you. I know that’s why you did it, last night. You’re such a fucking idiot.’

‘But you might go?’

‘No!’ Mitchell was exasperated. ‘I had given up when I met you, do you remember? I didn’t have a reason to carry on, I existed. That was it. I just tried not to kill anyone, but if mum had found me then I’d have welcomed it, or if Jane had found me I’d have fallen back. But you found me. And you made me human again.’ Mitchell tilted Anders chin up to look at him, Anders looked unsure, but Mitchell’s eyes blazed with adoration. ‘Not just Bragi, before that even, everything about you. You made me laugh and you made me want to get up in the morning. You’re the only person I’ve ever made love to and not had to fight killing them.’

‘That’s because I’m a god.’

‘I’m a vampire.’ Mitchell shrugged and wrapped his arms around Anders.

‘Why don’t you hate me for what I did?’

‘You think I don’t care? Jesus, you’re hard work. Fuck, Anders. You expect me to what, throw my life away for Jane? Throw you away over a cheap shag? I know what you’re like. And yes, I’m bloody upset and angry, I barely slept.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Anders said, uncharacteristically emotional. Mitchell looked at him again and saw the tears in his eyes. ‘I should have listened to you.’

‘She’s very persuasive and yes, alluring. I know what she’s like.’

‘Do you still want her?’ Anders was trying to sound casual, but Mitchell wasn’t fooled. He stroked Anders’ cheek, thinking about what to say. He thought of Jane in the Cairo shower again, turning to him, smiling and giving him permission to hunt. He thought of how he used to feel on her arm, of how special she made him feel, the looks of envy and admiration on the faces of other vampires. He remembered the Russian village, how the others they’d been with had had enough long before he and Jane, how they’d made sure every last body was drained dry before she’d allowed him to fuck her as she finished drinking from the last body. He felt sick remembering it. He remembered the girl they’d lured and killed just a few months ago and how much he’d wanted her and what she offered.

‘I’ll always want her,’ he finally answered truthfully. ‘Because she can give me a life of unlimited blood and I’m a vampire. Our bond, it’s not about love or even sex, she doesn’t like sex that much you know? She does when she’s high on blood, but the rest of the time she’s not interested. The only time she ever got excited when there wasn’t blood was watching me cop off with men.’

Anders let out a small laugh at that.

‘I don’t know what letters you saw, but I know the sort of stuff that was in them. I used to think I was in love with her. But I wasn’t and I’m not.’ Mitchell considered, was this true? Had he loved Jane? Perhaps, but he didn’t consider himself capable of loving anyone back then, not loving them in a human sense, not the way he’d loved Josie, George, Annie and Anders.  ‘It’s just about blood,’ he continued. ‘She’s not in love with me either, she just sees someone who she can share that with. Jane just wants someone to play with.’

‘She told me you were the only person who could match her.’

‘That’s nothing to be proud of.’

‘She wants to take over the vampires with you,’ Anders said.

‘I know, she used to tell me that, tell me that when I was older and I’d proved myself I could marry her and we’d rule together. But then I remembered I was human and I think it’s a matter of pride for her as much as anything to get me back, get me back to a place where I’d beg her for more blood. Herrick used to say no, held me back, said we had to be careful, there were systems and we had to remain anonymous. Jane just gave me what I wanted, we travelled to where there were better vampire systems, or worse human ones.’

Mitchell remembered the last night in their Cairo hotel room, he remembered sitting in an antique dining chair, naked as Jane straddled him and tipped a decanter full of blood down his throat. She was laughing as he struggled to swallow the fast flow. When it was finally emptied she’d started licking up the blood that had spilt down his chin as he’d guided his cock into her and thanked her again and again for the unending supply.

‘I don’t want that anymore, I’d rather die than go back to her,’ Mitchell said, leaning into kiss Anders. ‘I don’t want to be a monster, I want to be human and I want to be human with you.’

They kissed softly and Anders wrapped his arms around Mitchell. Mitchell held him tightly, breathing him in, a hand in his hair, stroking softly. They didn’t even hear the door open. She was just there suddenly.

‘That’s very sweet,’ Jane said, hands on her hips, she smiled, her face lighting up for a second. ‘If we had more time I’d ask you to carry on, Mitchell knows how I like to watch ‘im get fucked.’ She laughed before her eyes went black and her fanged descended and before Mitchell knew what was happening there was a knife at Anders throat for the second time that day. ‘’Is blood tastes fucking terrible, I thought ‘e’d done ‘is magic on me last night, but I’m sure we’ll manage it together,’ she hissed at Mitchell before lunging for Anders’ throat.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancett


	22. I Just Wanted to be Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane has a knife to Anders' throat, can Mitchell save him and himself? Or will they need help?

Jane pointed the tip of the long silver hunting knife right at Anders’ jugular vein. She brought her other hand up fast to stuff his mouth with a balled rag, roughly forcing it between his teeth. Anders was panicking, his eyes bulging as he sweated and gasped through his nose.

‘Now that’s taken care of,’ Jane said triumphantly. She pressed the flat of the knife against his neck and dragged him by the back of his t-shirt so they were further away from Mitchell.

‘Jane, just let him go,’ Mitchell said carefully, his hands up, trying to placate her. ‘This is about us, leave him out of it.’

‘Leave ‘im to kill you? No, no, I don’t think so. It’s time, Mitchell.’

‘What? Jane, just sit down, let Anders go.’ He walked towards her and she pressed the knife harder against Anders’ neck causing him to make a strained noise in this throat. Mitchell backed away. ‘Okay, I’m staying here. What do you want?’

‘I want you to stop all this messin’ about and sort yourself out. You don’t need him. You’re a vampire, A fuckin’ vampire!’

‘Jane, please,’ Mitchell said, speaking gently, trying to appeal to whatever it was in her that cared for him. ‘Please, let’s talk about this. You’re right, I can’t give you up. And I can’t give Anders up. So, let’s think about this. You know how I feel, you know.’

Anders was looking at him, wide-eyed. Mitchell held Jane’s eyes and continued. ‘But he’s special too, we can use him, Jane.’ He took a step towards her. ‘Listen to me, put the knife down and we can talk about how it’ll work, you and me.’

‘I don’t believe you,’ she hissed.

‘If you kill him I’ll never be yours, you know that, that’s why he’s still alive. But you know it could work, all of us. You and Anders get on great. We’re going to need someone, baby,’ he said, his voice becoming darkly seductive as he smiled at her. ‘Because when we’re in charge the blood will flow. Remember that night in Cairo, where you tipped the blood down my throat so fast I nearly choked? Then we fucked as we drank and licked the blood off each other, we were almost swimming in it. That’ll be every night, every single night when we’re in charge and Anders can make it so.’

He could see Jane relax her hand, her eyes were big and wide, listening to him now. Mitchell got into his stride. ‘I want to pour blood down your throat, I want one of those huge crystal decanters and I want to hold you in my arms and feed you until even you’re sated. Then I want to lick the blood off you. We can get Anders to talk them into coming to us, we can get him to bring them to us willingly. You can watch every man fuck me first if you want, I’ll still do that for you. I’ll do anything for you.’

‘Will ‘e do it?’ Jane asked. ‘Will ‘e do what you say?’

‘Anything, especially with you, he’s so into you.’ Mitchell took another step forward and smiled. ‘You know, this is what we’ve been waiting for, someone who can give us what we want.’

‘What’s that?’ she asked, still holding the knife, but all attention now on Mitchell.

‘Blood. Endless, unlimited blood.’

Jane’s grip on the knife had now slackened. Mitchell smiled at her. ‘You’re the Queen on Blood,’ he said softly. ‘Let me give it to you. L et me give you everything.’

Anders was still wide eyed, not knowing what to make of it when Mitchell moved. It was fast, too fast for a human. Anders was pushed to the floor and Mitchell was on top of Jane, throwing her to the ground and pinning her there with all his weight.

‘Throw me the stake!’ Mitchell screamed at Anders, his face now red with the effort of holding the writhing and kicking creature beneath him down. Anders’ whole left side was hurting from where he’d hit the floor and he winced as he scrambled up, pulling the cloth from his mouth. He spluttered, his tongue was completely dry. He looked around desperately for the stake and eventually saw it by the fish tank.

Mitchell was grunting with the effort of keeping Jane pinned as Anders fumbled to get to the long wooden stick and give it to Mitchell. Mitchell was screaming at him to hurry, his face strained with the effort of holding Jane down.

‘Use your voice! Do something!’ Mitchell yelled, finally taking the stake and struggling to position Jane underneath him. She was clawing at Mitchell like something inhuman, her eyes were black and her fangs descended, snapping at Mitchell’s arm, drawing blood.

‘Leave him,’ Anders said, his voice rough and mouth dry from the rag Jane had stuffed into it. He looked panicked and didn’t know what to do or where to turn.

‘Use Bragi!’ Mitchell shouted, grunting with effort, then crying out in pain as Jane let out a howl then sunk her fangs into his chest.

‘ _Stop it! Jane, stop!’_ Anders finally managed feebly. Jane let out another cry of pain and let go of Mitchell, squirming underneath him. ‘ _Leave him alone, stop, I order you to stop,’_ Anders said, more forcefully this time. Jane screamed again, this time sounding as if she was in real pain. With a grunt of effort Mitchell turned her over onto her back, knelt astride her hips and pointed the stake over her heart.

‘This is it,’ Mitchell hissed at her. ‘Don’t you ever fucking threaten Anders.’ He gripped the stake hard, his hands were slippery, covered in blood and sweat, as was his brow.

‘Go on then,’ Jane hissed at him, her face contorted with rage. ‘Go on.’

‘You want to make me a monster!’ Mitchell shouted. Anders was watching open mouthed, seemingly dumbstruck with horror. Mitchell was furious, his anger and shame at everything he and Jane had been together was bubbling to the surface. ‘I don’t want to be a monster, I don’t want to be that. I just wanted to be human and you couldn’t fucking let me!’ he said, tears in his eyes. ‘Why did you have to make it come to this?’

‘You’re not ‘uman,’ Jane said. ‘You’re so much better than that.’ She looked up at him and sighed. ‘Are you gonna do this or just sit there bawling?’

Mitchell gritted his teeth and pressed the stake to her chest. Jane laughed at him. ‘I fuckin’ will,’ Mitchell said. ‘I swear I will.’

‘We’re all waiting for you,’ she said, her eyes flashing black again. ‘Anders looks like he’s about to throw up by the way, so get on with it.’

‘You’re a little bitch, you really are.’

‘Do you want to fuck first? Is that it?’ she asked, bringing a leg up so her thigh rubbed between his legs. ‘I mean you like fucking and killing, it’s one of your main ‘obbies, innit?’

Mitchell was about to reply when the front door banged open. They all looked up, Mitchell roughly shoving Jane back to the ground as she leaned around to look.

Charlotte was striding towards them. She looked utterly furious, her sharp features made fiercer by her anger. She too moved fast, fast enough to grab Anders by the throat, lifting him off the ground and choking him before he had time to speak.

‘Let her go or I kill him,’ Charlotte told Mitchell, her voice cold and furious.

Mitchell looked at Jane laughing beneath him and let out a cry of anger. ‘You’ll kill us anyway!’ Mitchell cried.

‘I’ll kill you, he might live,’ Charlotte spat. Mitchell looked up at her, she had a long black skirt on and a white blouse, from a distance her silhouette was similar to his mother’s, he couldn’t imagine two people more different, especially as Charlotte bared her fangs and leaned towards Anders’ neck as he struggled and spluttered in her grip.

‘No, please, not Anders,’ Mitchell pleaded. ‘Let him go and I’ll let Jane go.

‘You’re in no position to bargain, John,’ Charlotte informed him. ‘Shut up and let her go. Jane, I hope you’ve seen him for what he is now.’

‘I’m going to kill the fucker,’ Jane snarled, lunging for the stake and snatching it from Mitchell’s grasp, before hitting him around the head with it, sending him sprawling to the floor. Anders was struggling wildly now, to no avail. Charlotte might be smaller than him but she had the strength of several men. All Anders could do was wriggle helplessly and gasp for air.

Jane was quickly on top of Mitchell, pinning him to the ground. ‘Get on with it,’ Charlotte snapped as Anders kicked at her, his screams strangled by her grip.

‘Such a shame,’ Jane said, as Mitchell looked up at her dazed from the blow to the head. ‘You’re so pretty and we ‘ad such fun.’

‘Just do it!’ Charlotte shouted again. Jane leaned forward and planted a kiss to Mitchell’s forehead.

‘Still love you,’ she whispered. ‘Last chance, you and me.’

Mitchell looked at her, looked at Anders struggling and gasping for air. ‘Let him go,’ Mitchell whispered.

‘Can’t do that, don’t matter ‘ow ‘andsome you are,’ Jane said, pressing the stake to his chest, but not making any move to plunge it through his heart.

‘Jane, just fucking do it!’ Charlotte snarled again, this time dropping Anders and grabbing the stake from Jane, pushing her roughly aside and standing over Mitchell. She brought the stake above her head. There were screams of ‘no’, from both Jane and Anders, who were both scrabbling on the floor towards Mitchell.

Anders let out a scream, ‘John,’ he cried, closing his eyes. He expected to open them to see Mitchell’s face grey and cracking like dry mud. Instead he felt a gust of wind on his face and opened his eyes in surprise.

Charlotte was still there, but the stake had gone and Ellen was moving towards them. She wasn’t exactly walking, floating would have been a better description and she looked terrible. She radiated something, there seemed to be a white light coming from her and she was brighter and bolder than a living person. But it was her face that frightened Anders and the three vampires. Mitchell had never imagined she could be so angry. She moved through the room with a violent energy behind her, a stack of paperwork on the coffee table went flying as if in a gale. The coffee table then flew at Charlotte as Ellen raised her hand, directing it.

‘You leave my son alone!’ Ellen shouted. Her voice seemed amplified and filled the room as the coffee table knocked Charlotte off her feet and sent her flying. The lightbulbs were popping one by one and Ellen threw Mitchell the stake, continuing on towards Charlotte. ‘Deal with that one,’ she told her son, nodding at Jane, sending a picture off the wall flying in Jane’s direction, which knocked her to the ground again with a scream.

‘What the hell is that thing?’ Charlotte cried, gasping and trying to move the table, wincing in pain.

‘I am his mother,’ Ellen said, fierce and proud. ‘And I will send you to hell if you lay another finger on him.’

Charlotte laughed. Ellen sent another table flying across the room, smashing into the wall just above Charlotte’s head. Charlotte ducked and gritted her teeth, furious.

‘John, hurry up,’ Ellen said to Mitchell who was holding the stake and had grabbed Jane, but seemed frozen. ‘Just do it. I’ll deal with this one.’

Mitchell hauled Jane against the wall, pressing the stake to her chest.

‘ _Don’t touch him_ ,’ Bragi warned as Anders finally pulled himself together a little, emboldened by Ellen’s appearance. Jane seemed to shrink at his voice and whined in pain. ‘Come on,’ Anders said to Mitchell. Mitchell was looking at Jane with tears in his eyes.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, biting his lip, preparing to do it. Jane lifted her hand to his hair and stroked it.

‘You’d really kill me?’ she said. ‘Me? You told me you loved me once.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Mitchell said again, he was looking at her intently, remembering their long years together. ‘I did you know, I did love you.’

‘Don’t kill me then,’ she whispered. ‘We can do it your way. I’m sorry about Anders, I’ll change.’

‘Jane …’ Mitchell began, shaking his head. ‘No.’

At the word no her eyes went black and she lunged at him, fangs bared. Mitchell seemed paralysed. Anders watched in despair as Mitchell still held the stake to her chest, making no move to actually use it. He walked up behind Mitchell and placed his hand on the end of the stake, pulling is from Mitchell’s grasp and as Jane locked onto Mitchell’s throat, tearing viciously at him, Anders brought his arms back and with enormous effort plunged the stake into her heart.

Jane let out a cry of shock, her head fell back. Mitchell caught her in his arms as she fell, blood was pouring from his neck, but he just held Jane.

‘He killed me,’ Jane said in shock.

‘I’m sorry,’ Mitchell said, bringing a hand up to touch her face. Anders watched agog as Mitchell gently kissed her lips before her face turned into a grey, cracked thing and then she dissolved into dust in Mitchell’s arms. Mitchell fell to his knees, clutching the leather jacket she had been wearing, looking horrified.

‘Come on,’ Anders said, pulling him up, eyes now on Charlotte. Mitchell said nothing, he was still staring at the jacket in his hands, disbelief written all over his face. ‘Come on, move,’ Anders urged. Charlotte had flung the table out the way now and was furiously making for Mitchell. Anders scrabbled for the stake he had used on Jane, feeling sick at the realisation that the dust it was coated with was Jane.

Mitchell then looked up, Anders arm was around him and both men watched in disbelief as a door appeared in the wall of their flat. It was a brown wooden door with a simple door knob and a brass knocker. Ellen moved towards Charlotte and grabbed her from behind, one hand fisted in her blouse, the other in her hair. With a strength even Charlotte couldn’t resist Ellen dragged her to the door, Ellen was still different, if someone could glow grey that is how Anders would have described it, and her face was set with anger and determination. Ellen flung the door open and forced Charlotte to her knees, then shoved her head inside.

There was a rush of air from the door, and a din of voices, then the air was broken by the sound of Charlotte screaming. Mitchell and Anders jumped back. Charlotte was controlled, she was cold and terrifying and neither of them had ever seen her show the slightest hint of fear. Now she was screaming and Ellen kept her there, on her knees.

Eventually Ellen pulled Charlotte’s head back out the door. ‘See that?’ Ellen asked. ‘You lay one finger on my son, that’s where you’re going. You can’t run from me, you can’t hide from me. I will find you anywhere and I will drag you there. And there’s no getting out of there, do you understand?’

She pushed Charlotte forward into the door again for a few moments, before bringing her back and letting her answer. ‘So, do you agree?’

‘Yes, yes,’ Charlotte said, panting and terrified. Mitchell had never seen her like that, she looked as though she was actually shaking.

‘Let’s be clear. Do you promise to keep my son safe from harm, from you and anyone else who might hurt him?’

‘Yes, I promise. Please, shut the door.’

‘Now, you should know, I can find you, I can push you in and if you’re thinking about making me vanish from this mortal realm, you should know I can still find you and pull you through from the other side.’

‘I promise I won’t hurt him,’ Charlotte stammered. ‘Please close the door!’ she begged, tears in her eyes.

‘I will know, I will know when he’s ripped from the world and if that happens I’m coming for you.’

Ellen stood up, leaving Charlotte on her knees shaking and staring into the door with terror. All Mitchell and Anders could hear was a rush of loud wind and then Ellen slammed the door shut before it disappeared. Charlotte blinked and looked at the space where the door had been. She looked around and then shakily got to her feet and ran.

Ellen watched her from the window and stood staring until she was out of sight, before turning to Mitchell and Anders. Mitchell was still holding Jane’s jacket, dumbstruck and pale. Anders was shaken, his arms around Mitchell, he let out a sigh of relief as Ellen returned to her normal form.

‘You need to change, lovey,’ Ellen told Mitchell softly. ‘You’re covered in blood. It’s healing but you’re soaked in it.’ She touched the puncture wounds in his neck which were fast closing up but still oozed blood slowly down his neck. There was also a bloody tear in his shirt where Jane had lunged for his chest. ‘You better change too,’ Ellen continued, looking at Anders. ‘You have blood on you. It’ll be hard enough getting through the airport without looking like that. You need blood too, John.’

‘No,’ Mitchell said, finally speaking.

‘You need it. There’s some in Carl’s fridge. I’ll get it.’

‘Can’t you get him to bring it over?’ Anders asked. ‘John could probably do with you here.’

Ellen looked pained and took Mitchell’s hand. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart, but she got there first, Charlotte did. She thought you still lived there, she killed him.’

‘How do you know this?’ Mitchell asked.

‘I went to say goodbye to him, to tell him again that Dan had forgiven him.’ Mitchell nodded at his mother, she and Carl had become close after the revelation that Ellen had met Carl’s dead lover in the afterlife. ‘There’ll be time for grief later, all our grief,’ she said, lifting the jacket out of Mitchell’s arms and placing it on the settee nearby. ‘But now we must go.’

‘Come on, John,’ Anders said softly, steering Mitchell towards their bedroom.

‘She wasn’t going to kill me,’ Mitchell said flatly. ‘I’ve seen Jane kill hundreds of times, she just does it. She wasn’t going to kill me.’

‘No, she was going to do worse,’ Ellen said firmly. ‘After all this, after all this pain and suffering, after everything I’ve done to find you and keep you safe there is no way she was going to take you back and make a monster of you, John.’

~

**3 days later. Hotel Noveltel, Auckland Airport, New Zealand.**

Anders rubbed his eyes and swung his legs out of bed. He looked over at Mitchell who was fast asleep, in dreamless, Bragi induced slumber. Anders had no chance of sleep, not with the jet lag and the pills he’s taken on the plane had knocked him out for most of the journey leaving him wide awake since their arrival. So he got up and opened the doors to the balcony, eschewing the sitting area of their suite, which was for Ellen. He wondered what on earth the hotel had a balcony for, seeing as the view was basically of an airport, but it was a warm night and even at two in the morning he was comfortable sitting outside in his boxers and a t-shirt.

He wished he had some weed, but settled for a bottle of beer from the minibar. He stared up at the Southern sky and sighed. He was home. Safe and home. He felt more secure than he had in months, than he had ever since Jane had first careered into their lives. He shivered at the thought of her and her dust covered clothes on the floor of his apartment. He remembered the emails she sent him about her clothes and felt sickened. He’d killed her. He saw the blank look in Mitchell’s eyes when the topic was brought up too and felt a mixture of guilt and resentment, both than Mitchell wasn’t pleased and that Mitchell hadn’t done it himself.

‘Can’t sleep, lovey?’ Ellen asked softly coming to sit beside him. Ellen at least seemed to think he’d done the right thing and he’d even seemed to go up in her estimation. He supposed killing Jane cancelled out sleeping with her. That was a relief as he’d be both amazed and awed by her powers, it never occurred to him she could _do_ anything and now he knew he wouldn’t want to be on her bad side. But since ‘the incident’ as Ellen had christened it, she’d been nothing but the sweet, nurturing woman he had come to know and care for.

‘Nah,’ he answered. ‘The stars are different, look.’

‘I noticed. You glad to be home?’

‘Sort of. I’m glad we’re as far away from London’s vampires as it’s possible to get.’

‘Have you told your family you’re home yet?’

‘I’ll speak to Dawn in the morning. Just want to make sure John’s up to it before he has to meet them all.’

‘He’s strong,’ Ellen assured him.

‘He’s pretty cut up about Carl. And Jane.’

‘I know,’ she said simply, giving his hand a squeeze. ‘You did the right thing, you know. I see in your eyes you’re worried about it.’

‘I’ve never killed anyone before.’ Anders stared into the distance. Killing came so easy to some, and deep down he wondered if he was really more bothered about killing Jane or Mitchell resenting him for killing Jane.

‘She would have got to John somehow, she’d have never let him go.’

‘She loved him.’

‘It’s not real love, what they had. It’s twisted. They loved the blood. Real love doesn’t turn you into a monster, it makes you better.’

‘John makes me better,’ Anders said, only realising the truth of it as the words left him mouth. ‘I’m a selfish bastard really, he’s the only person I’ve ever cared about more than myself.’

Ellen squeezed his hand again. ‘You just remember that next time some girl flutters her eye lashes at you.’

‘I’m sorry about that,’ he said shamefully.

‘I know. John knows you love him and if he can still love you, so can I.’

They said nothing for a minute as they watched a plane circle, preparing to land. It was a Cathay Pacific flight, Anders wondered where it had come from, if it contained any more lost souls running from their lives to start anew. He pondered for a moment on his ancestors, who had also run to the other side of the world to hide.

‘Have you been in love?’ he asked Ellen suddenly, not wanting to talk about himself and Mitchell any longer.

Ellen smiled. ‘Of course I have! I was married.’

‘That doesn’t mean you were in love. Most married people I know hate each other.’

‘Well, we were. We were lucky I guess.’

‘What was he like, John’s dad?’ Anders asked, suddenly curious.

Ellen smiled warmly. ‘He was like John, called John too.’

‘Seriously? Two Johns in one house? Not very imaginative.’

Ellen ignored him and continued. ‘He was handsome, very, very handsome. He was also, sexy I think you’d say now. He was very dark like John and had a twinkle in his eye. He had blue eyes though, John takes after me in eye colour, though he looks just like his father.’

‘Did you know him long before you married?’

‘About five months. He was of gypsy stock you know, and his family came from Roscommon. He was on his way to Dublin to look for work when he stopped off at my father’s pub. My father owned a pub in a village in Wicklow. Anyway, he never left after that, Father was looking for hands, so took him on and John’s big city dreams disappeared the minute he saw me, so he always told me. After five months we were married and six months later my first daughter was born.’

Anders burst out laughing. ‘Six months later?’

Ellen shrugged and smiled knowingly. ‘He was a very handsome man. We were engaged and, well, my mother wanted us to wait a year. I mean would you have waited a year for your John?’

Anders laughed again. ‘I didn’t last a day.’

‘Quite. It was very common, as long as you got married in the end no harm done.’

‘John told me nice girls didn’t, I think he was trying to excuse being a virgin at twenty –three.’

‘Now, you don’t tease him, he never fell in love and he was too kind to get a girl in trouble. His father had a bad boy streak in a way John didn’t.’

‘He does now, trust me. Wait until he hears his own mother had a shotgun wedding!’

‘Shushh, don’t tell him!’ Ellen said, laughing nonetheless. ‘As I said, his father was a very handsome man, he had a short black beard and shock of black hair with piecing blue eyes and when he looked at you… well, he made you feel like you were the only person in the room. I think even the nuns would have thrown off their habits and run away with him.’

‘I bet,’ Anders sniggered. ‘Did he have the charm too?’

‘Yes,’ Ellen whispered, her face now beaming with the happy memories. ‘He used to bring me flowers he’d picked before I got up and he’d tell me the most romantic things. Wicked things too, and at night he’s sneak into my room through the window. My sisters were already married so it was just me in that room. The only surprise is it took me three months to get pregnant. My mother wasn’t happy, she’d hoped I’d go off him, which is why she didn’t want us married for a year. But she fell for his charm in the end too.’

‘So it was love at first sight?’

‘Oh, lovey, I think that’s lust, but we fell in love. If we hadn’t lost so much we’d have been so happy. John was our third child.’ She stopped smiling now and pressed her lips together. ‘But they’re all waiting for me, beautiful happy children waiting with their daddy for me,’ she said, trying to smile.

Anders nodded. ‘But you want to bring John back to them?’ That sense of dread was rising in him again.

‘I want to make sure he’s ok, I can’t leave and rest with my babies while he’s possessed by this monster. That’s what it is, Anders, a possession. You’re a vessel for Bragi, my poor boy is a vessel for a demon and it’s only because he’s got such a good and pure heart he can fight it at all. Look at what the others are like. My poor boy. I can feel his pain and I wish I could take it all for him, I wish I could wash it away. I’d do anything for him to be human, to live a normal life.’

‘There’s no way? For him to be human again?’

‘I don’t think so, lovey. He’ll just go on endlessly. Still, at least he has you now. Somebody he can be with as an equal.’

Anders nodded, his own heart breaking for the man he loved. He looked up at the sky again and sighed. Then he looked at Ellen and asked what he’d wanted to ask her for a long time.

‘Why aren’t you bothered I’m a man, that he’s with a man? I mean where you come from it wasn’t exactly ok.’

Ellen just smiled. ‘Oh Anders, I’ve been killed by a vampire, walked through purgatory meeting my son’s victims for decades, made all sort of deals - don’t ask, only the dead know,’ she said seeing Anders’ curiosity. ‘After what I’ve seen, him being a little bit gay wasn’t going to worry me.’

‘A little bit gay?’

‘Well, he likes ladies too. Oh, you know what I mean. Anyway, it’s not like I didn’t know.’

‘You knew?’

‘John has very expressive eyes. I can see when he’s looking at someone like that, I always could.’

Anders laughed at that. ‘He didn’t actually tell you about us though, did he?’

‘He told me you were the best person he’d ever met. He didn’t need to say anymore, it was obvious he adored you.’

Anders smiled at that, his heart swelling. ‘For all he’s done he’s the best person I’ve ever met too,’ Anders said softly. ‘What it must take for him not to be like them,’ he said more to himself than Ellen, thinking again of Charlotte and Jane, not to mention the others he’d met who killed without a thought, who were predators. Ellen reached over and took his hand in hers, it felt cool and strange but also comforting and gave Anders strength. In the morning he would call Dawn and then Mike. He was home and this time he wasn’t alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette xx


	23. Home Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Mitchell try to settle into life in Auckland.

**J:PR Offices, Auckland, New Zealand**

Anders was sprawled on the sofa, a blank look on his face as Dawn spoke. She was telling him about their clients, it was all detailed and in all honesty, really boring. The business was doing well though, which was a relief as he had plans for the money he’d amassed in London and was now sitting in a bank account in the Cayman Islands until he saw fit to spend it.

‘Thank you, Dawn,’ he said, smiling and sitting up.

‘But I’ve not finished, there’s more.’

‘You have done such a good job, well done. You can tell me all about the others later.’

‘Okay, and thanks. But it would be good if you knew now, I mean you need to make sure you’re all up to speed, we have a great thing going here, but,’ she paused and frowned.

‘But?’

‘Promise me,’ she said, steely and determined. ‘That you won’t screw it up.’

‘I won’t screw it up, why would I screw it up, this is my business.’

‘You might screw it up, by…by being you. So just don’t. And if Mitchell’s still on the team I could really use some help.’

‘You have me!’ Anders said brightly.

‘As I said. So is he?’

‘He wants to work at the hospital, I’m going to sort him something out this week.’

‘Were you that awful to him in London?’

‘He’s just weird and prefers manual labour.’ Dawn shook her head as Anders grinned at her. ‘And speak of the devil,’ Anders said, his face lighting up as Mitchell appeared behind her carrying three cups of coffee and a bag of pastries from the coffee shop across the street. Dawn turned around and squealed before hugging Mitchell. Mitchell awkwardly put the coffees down before embracing her warmly, lifting her off her feet and squeezing her tight.

‘It’s so good to see you,’ Mitchell said, pulling her in tight again and enjoying her solid warmth.

‘You too, I’ve missed you,’ Dawn said.

‘Me too.’

‘I’m so glad you came, I was worried Anders would screw it up.’

Mitchell laughed. ‘No, we’re all good,’ he said, letting go of Dawn and going to give Anders a kiss. ‘Here, coffee and pastries, because I know what a slave driver he is now.’

‘I am here,’ Anders complained. Mitchell went to sit beside him their legs touching as Dawn sat down too and they opened the bag of pastries.

‘I know, and you’re a slave driver,’ Mitchell said, handing him a Danish pastry. ‘I hope you’re going to be nice to Dawn now you’re back.’

‘I’m always nice to Dawn,’ Anders grumbled as Mitchell slung an arm around his shoulder. ‘You having one?’

‘Not hungry,’ Mitchell said.

‘You have to eat, John,’ Anders said quietly. ‘You’ve had nothing but coffee and cigarettes today.’

Mitchell shrugged. ‘I’m fine,’ he lied, turning back to Dawn. ‘So, how are you?’

‘Good thanks, good. And you?’ she asked.

‘Fine, nice to be here.’

‘Have you met any of Anders’ family yet?’

‘Not yet,’ Mitchell said, with a smile.

‘We’ll get settled first. There’s stuff to sort out, like my flat,’ Anders said.

‘It’s all ready, I’ve even ordered food for you.’

‘Thanks,’ Mitchell said warmly.

‘I mean putting it on the market. It’s not big enough for us all. I want something huge by the harbour.’

‘Anders, those kind of houses cost millions,’ Dawn said.

‘Not a problem, business in London was very good. I want somewhere with a sea view and a pool. You can get onto it later. And I think we need another car, if John gets a job at the hospital he’ll need to drive.’

‘Any particular kind?’ Dawn asked, reaching for her pad, a resigned look on her face as Anders life became hers to sort out again.

‘A cheap one,’ Mitchell interjected.

‘I think a black Audi,’ Anders said, leaning back into Mitchell. ‘He looks good in black. Well, off you trot, oh and can you tell my brothers I’m out if they call, that includes Ty, that’s an order Dawn.’

‘Fine,’ she said getting up. ‘Will I tell them you’ll call?’

‘If you like, but don’t be specific. Oh and we need new phones, I have my old one, but I need a new one for me and two others for John.’

‘Two?’

‘Yes, two, Dawn. Two different phones, get the latest iPhone, decent tariff. One will need a huge data package, other not so much.’

Dawn looked at him askance. ‘If you say so, charged to the company I take it?’

‘You got it. And as soon as possible.’

Anders watched as Dawn went back to her desk and took a bite out of a Danish pastry. ‘You should eat,’ he told Mitchell.

‘I told you I’m fine. Can I smoke?’

‘No,’ Anders said, nodding towards Dawn. ‘Listen, you need to eat something.’

‘I’ll get something later. Hey, I’m fine.’

‘You’re not.’

‘I’m upset about Carl, but I’ll be ok.’

Anders nodded, saying nothing.

‘When am I going to meet your brothers?’

‘Soon, I just want a word with Mike first, before you get the welcome committee. And I want to make sure you’re ok. And I am.’

Mitchell sighed and wrapped his arms around Anders. ‘I’m fine. Absolutely fine. Now I really need to smoke. Can I smoke out the window?’

‘No,’ Anders said again.

‘I’m going out for a smoke then,’ Mitchell said, kissing Anders quickly and getting up.

~

It was later in the day when Anders was idly going through his emails, he was reading the last thread Jane had sent him. It had started with a photo of a blue dress. He had killed her, an image of her face grey and cracked flashed through his mind before he pushed it away. She would have killed Mitchell, he was sure. Ellen was sure too, Ellen seemed convinced he’d saved Mitchell from death or a fate worse than death and while it was nice to be the hero in someone’s eyes he wasn’t in Mitchell’s. Mitchell just looked blank when Jane was mentioned. There was a well of nothing, no anger, relief or sadness. Just nothing. And Anders didn’t buy that all his grief was for Carl, not for one moment. Ellen might believe it, but he’d known Jane and seen those letters, knew her allure. And then there was Ellen. He’d had no idea ghosts were powerful, never mind that powerful. He was part in awe and part terrified of what she might do to him next time his weaknesses got the better of him.

He swivelled on his chair and was somewhat surprised to turn around to see Mike standing in front of him. ‘Hi,’ Mike said, with a small smile.

‘Hi,’ Anders replied in surprise.

‘I figured I’d better come to see you, seeing as you hadn’t dropped by yet.’

‘Nice to see you,’ Anders said blankly, closing the window with Jane’s email open and folding the laptop screen down. ‘You know how it is when you travel, well you don’t, but jet lag and all. We’ve just been in a hotel for a few days.’

‘Well, good to have you back,’ Mike said, amicably, taking a seat.

‘Beer?’ Anders asked already walking to the fridge.

‘Cheers,’ Mike said, taking the proffered bottle. ‘Look, when we skyped, it didn’t come over well. We were just worried, but you know, we’ve had a chat with Ty and it’s all cool. I mean, we’re still worried, but if you’re happy, we’re happy for you.’

‘I am happy,’ Anders said, considering whether that was true. Not really. He was probably happier before he’d met Mitchell. But he’d be a lot unhappier without him now, now he loved him and felt the desperate, hateful need to be with him, to have him. He knew that now, despite the endless drama and upheaval he felt a sense of wholeness inside he’d never had before. Was this love?

‘Good. So, we’re, you know, keen to meet him.’

‘You will, when we’re ready. There are complications.’

‘Yeah?’ Mike looked worried now. Anders rolled his eyes. ‘Not that stuff in London I hope?’

‘No, that’s all finished. I absolutely promise. No, the complication is a family matter.’

‘Huh?’

‘John’s mum is here too.’ Anders took a swig of his beer and waited for the penny to drop.

‘But… you said he’s 119. Christ, is his mum a vampire? Shit, Anders!’

‘Ghost. She was murdered in 1925 by the vampire that made John and spent ninety odd years searching for him, she only found him three months ago.’

‘A ghost?’ Mike looked incredulous.

‘She’s a lovely lady. And quite formidable, so be nice.’

‘A ghost?’ Mike repeated dumbly.

‘Yeah, mortals can’t see her, so don’t mention it to Dawn.’

‘And she’s with you?’

‘Yeah, sort of lives with us. Not ideal, but she does the housework and shopping.’

‘How does a ghost shop?’

‘She shops online, uses my bloody credit card. Honestly, I wish she’d never got near wifi, she’s currently scouting property, she spends all day watching property shows and fancies herself an expert. The flat in London is on the market and she’s going to haunt the estate agent if they don’t get at least the asking price. She’s dealing with the whole sale for me, she’s got an email address, told them she’s my PA.’

Mike nodded dumbly. ‘A ghost goes online. I feel like I’m in one of Olaf’s hallucinations.’

‘Tell me about it. Anyway, what’s the Lord Odin make of it all?’

‘Nothing, I haven’t said anything yet.’ Mike paused and looked at Anders. ‘I mean, I figured something must’ve happened for you to come back so suddenly. I wanted to make you were ok…’

‘Well, there was a spot of bother, those vampires. But all taken care of. Ellen’s quite a lady.’

‘Ellen?’

‘John’s mum.’

‘Are you saying a ghost took care of things?’

‘And me. But you know, she can literally send people to actual hell.’

‘I’ll stay on her good side then,’ Mike said, letting out a low whistle. ‘Michele is keen to meet him, this John.’

‘Oh you need to call him Mitchell, and I bet she is.’ Anders laughed. ‘She’s going to be sick when she sees him. He’s gorgeous.’

Mike smiled at that. ‘Ty says you’re really into him. Different with him.’

‘Well, he’s much hotter than anyone else I’ve ever met.’

Mike smiled again. ‘Is this what it’s been the whole time? You’re gay?’

‘The technical term is bisexual as I’ve screwed literally hundreds of chicks. Chicks and dicks is my motto, Mike. But John’s different, we connect, he’s special, and not just really good at sex, although he is really good at sex. Mind-blowingly good in fact, god I’m almost getting a boner just thinking about it.’ Anders looked wistfully into the distance as Mike pulled a disgusted face. ‘But it’s more than just his sexual prowess. He’s not a mortal. He knows me as a man and a god and that’s important. I mean you know what’s it’s like with a goddess, it’s like that, except without the goddess crap.’

‘Well, that’s quite something.’

‘What I’m saying is that this is really different, so you treat him with some respect, he’s not like the others.’

‘I get that,’ Mike said, laughing to himself. ‘I think you’re trying to tell me you’re in love with him.’

‘Well, yeah,’ Anders shrugged.  

‘That’s good.’

‘It’s a fucking pain in the neck. I mean, before I was quite happy. Perfectly happy and everything was fine, he bowls up and bam, my life is one fucking drama after the next.’

‘And yet you still love him.’ Mike looked quietly pleased. Anders caught the look on his face and scowled.

‘As I said, he’s really hot. And don’t go thinking it’s changed me. I’m still the same person has before.’

‘Well, that’s…’ Mike shrugged. ‘Anyway, Grandpa is looking forward to seeing you and your vampire. He’s quite intrigued. Ingrid’s a bit worried but they’ve upped the pot intake so I think she’s beyond the point of feeling any fear.’

Anders laughed. ‘Nothing’s changed here then?’

‘Well, Stacey and Grandpa are now a thing, I have no idea if he’s still with Ingrid. It’s hard to work out. Michele and I are good, she’s kind of hard work, but worth it.’ Anders let out a bark of laughter. ‘Axl’s good, I think. We had a road trip, straightened a few things out. Saw Derek, which was interesting. But he’s in a good place, finally over Gaia I think.’

Anders shivered at the mention of her name, an image of her flashed through his mind and he felt a stab of want. He closed his eyes and thought of Mitchell, willing it away.

‘That’s good,’ he said to Mike. He looked behind Mike and grinned.

‘Anders, I need to use your computer,’ Ellen said as she wandered in. ‘I’ve been following John and Dawn around that phone shop and they’re clueless, I tried to tell John but he got very cross with me and was paranoid about Dawn seeing me. So I’m going to order my own phone. I don’t trust his judgement on data allowances.’

‘You go ahead,’ Anders said smiling, both at Ellen and Mike’s shocked face. ‘This is my big brother, Mike by the way. And this, Mike, is my mother-in-law, Ellen.’

~

Mitchell had arrived back at J:PR to find Anders sprawled on the sofa, asleep, while his mother was having an animated conversation with a man in a brown shirt and blue jeans at the conference table.

‘This is the thing with kids, it never stops, no matter how old they are,’ the man said.

‘I know, when John was 22 I was worrying just as much as when he was 12. He was such a sweet boy, I used to worry he was too soft for the army.’

‘Was he?’

Mitchell cringed, barely able to remember his 22 year old self. ‘No,’ Ellen said. ‘He’s a brave man. Still can’t cook properly though and he’s had one hundred years of practice. I’ve started watching Masterchef but he refuses to watch and learn.’

The man laughed. ‘Well, Ty cooks. Now Anders can cook, believe it or not, he used to have to do a fair bit when Ty and Axl were little, but he stopped as soon as he could.’

‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen Anders cook,’ Ellen replied. ‘But I cook for the boys now, it’s the least I can do, Anders is very generous.’

The man nodded, looking surprised, before looking up and seeing Mitchell and Dawn. ‘Hi,’ Dawn said, looking at Mike oddly. ‘Who are you talking to?’

‘Ah, there you are. Did you get them?’

‘Just mine,’ Mitchell said, eying his mother. ‘I got a message saying I didn’t know what I was doing.’

‘You don’t,’ Ellen said. ‘500 GB is totally inadequate. I need unlimited data if I’m going to help you with the house.’

‘What are you looking at?’ Dawn asked, as all three men looked at Ellen.

‘This must be Dawn,’ Ellen said. ‘Stop staring at me, boys. John, this is Mike.’

‘My brother, Mike,’ Anders said with a cough, getting up and coming to join them. ‘More coffee please, Dawn. From the shop around the block, not over the road, that tastes like crap.’

‘Okay,’ Dawn said, still staring.

‘Now please, Dawn,’ Anders snapped, watching until she was out the door.

‘Ma!’ Mitchell said, exasperated. ‘Stop doing that!’

‘What?’

‘Talking to me when I’m with mortals! It makes me look weird.’

‘That’s because you have an honest demeanour. Anders is a much better liar and he’s fine.’

‘Cheers,’ Anders said cheerfully.

‘That’s not a compliment!’ Mitchell complained. He then turned to Mike. ‘Mitchell, nice to meet you.’ He held out his hand and Mike shook it.

‘Nice to meet you too at last.’ Mike seemed at a loss about what to say.

‘Not what you expected?’ Mitchell said, grinning.

Mike laughed at that. ‘Not really. Though to be honest I’m not sure what I expected from the man who made Anders settle down.’

‘I’m not settled down!’ Anders said hotly. ‘That makes it sound like I mow the lawn and stay in doing boring things.’

‘You do spend a lot of time playing that football game,’ Ellen said, sitting down in the chair Anders had vacated and opening up his laptop on her knee.

‘There, he just needed to be introduced to Fifa International Soccer,’ Mitchell shrugged. ‘I’ve been looking forward to meeting you too, and Axl and Olaf. I’ve heard so much about you guys.’

‘I won’t ask what,’ Mike said laughing.

‘Well, he’s told me you’re Ullr, which sounds like it’s pretty cool.’ Mitchell smiled again. He was trying desperately to impress. He knew Mike was worried about Anders dating a vampire and the last thing he wanted was to be the cause of a rift between Anders and his family. He knew that despite his bluff Anders loved his brothers and Mitchell adored Anders, even through his grief and confusion at the events of the last week he adored him.

‘Ullr’s not bad,’ Mike conceded. ‘But probably not as great as Anders has made out.’

‘Well, it’s got to be better than being a vampire. That sucks.’

‘I’m sure it does,’ Mike replied. ‘Your mum was telling me.’

Mitchell gave Ellen a sideways glance. ‘Yeah,’ he said uncertainly. ‘But it’s ok now I have Anders,’ Mitchell said, smiling warmly in Anders direction. Anders came to stand beside him and smiled back. ‘I hear you have a pub,’ Mitchell said.

‘Yeah, it’s just a small place. It’s not a bad way to make a living, provided your family don’t drink you out of house and home.’ They stood looking at each other slightly awkwardly. Mitchell grinned again, nervous and still desperate to make a good impression. ‘Er, you should come down later. Maybe meet a few people.’

‘That would be great,’ Mitchell said, automatically, grinning still, trying too hard.

‘Well, how about we see you around eight. I’ll round up some folk.’

‘Mike, go easy on him, it’s been a tough week.’

‘I’m being friendly,’ Mike said as Anders put his arm around Mitchell protectively, his hand curled around Mitchell’s hip. Mitchell appreciated the gesture. 

‘It sounds great!’ Mitchell said. ‘I’m fine,’ he said aside to Anders. ‘It’ll be nice to have a night out.’

‘Bring your mum,’ Mike added, nodding towards Ellen, who was staring at her screen in concentration.  

‘Ah, thank you, lovey,’ Ellen replied before Mitchell or Anders could answer.

Anders rolled his eyes and smiled weakly.

Mike didn’t stick around much longer and when he’d left Anders rounded on Mitchell.

‘What did you agree to that for?’

‘I wanted to make a good impression and I want to meet your family,’ Mitchell said, annoyed.

‘Why? They’re dicks.’

‘I got on very well with Mike,’ Ellen said, getting up to join them on the sofa where Anders had slumped into Mitchell’s side.

‘And that’s another thing, are you sure you want to come?’ Anders asked. ‘I mean it’ll be full of mortals as well.’

‘That’s ok, anyway, I don’t want to go too far from John until I’m sure there are no vampires here.’

‘I’ve told you, Ma, there aren’t.’

‘I’d like to be sure,’ Ellen replied. ‘Anyway, I’m going home to get tea started. You haven’t eaten much today, lovey, is there anything special you want?’

‘Whatever’s going,’ Mitchell mumbled.

‘I quite fancy Peri Peri chicken,’ Anders piped up.

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Ellen said, before disappearing.

‘Will you be up to meeting everyone?’ Anders asked, picking up Mitchell’s gloved hand and holding it. ‘You’ve not been yourself.’

‘My best friend died,’ Mitchell said flatly. ‘But hey, maybe this will cheer me up.’

‘I can’t imagine meeting my family would cheer anyone up, but whatever.’

‘Might stop me thinking about Carl.’

‘And Jane,’ Anders said pointedly. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, his hand cupping Mitchell’s face, making him look at him. ‘For everything with her.’ He paused as Mitchell nodded. ‘And for killing her, I didn’t really mean to, I just thought she was killing you. I didn’t want her to die either.’

Anders found himself shaking slightly, realising the truth of his words, they’d had very little time alone since it all happened and Ellen shut down any conversation about Jane.

‘I know and it’s ok, I know you only did it because you love me. She was crazy, she killed countless people and she would have killed countless more. It’s just… she was, just that I… I, well she was … for a long time.’

‘She was good fun, wasn’t she?’ Anders said, her face filling his mind, she was always laughing in his mind’s eye. Mitchell nodded.

‘Yeah, she could be.’

‘Turns out she hated me, though.’

‘Nah,’ Mitchell said, shaking his head. ‘You’d be dead if she’d hated you that much. She hated humans. I don’t really know what happened to her, but she had a hard life before Charlotte found her, she was dying of TB apparently. She just wanted to have pleasure; clothes, sex, food, blood.’ Mitchell paused. ‘She said we could live a hundred lives, that we could be kings on earth every day. I used to want that… but now, now I … I have you.’

Mitchell’s voice was quivering and he closed his eyes, trying to compose himself, before failing and falling into Anders’ arms.

Anders held him, let him cry, for Jane, for Carl, for the loss of his home for the last century, England. He needed to let it out, but Anders knew he’d cried for Carl already, Ellen had held him and told him how his friend would be free now. They’d lamented the loss of the England they knew and loved. These tears were for the woman who’d been his lover for the past ninety years, the woman who’d enthralled and terrified him, his partner in crime, his mirror image. She would have been his downfall, but there was part of Mitchell that mourned that too, because he was still and always would be a vampire and there was still a part of him that longed for the life of blood soaked glory Jane offered.

Mitchell pulled back slightly and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small gold heart pendant on a chain. Anders looked at it, ran a finger over it, remembering the night he’d first seen it, the night that ended in blood and violence outside a pub. But all he remembered was her dazzling smile as the gold heart around her neck caught the light and her playful eyes drew him in. Anders lifted Mitchell’s hand and pressed a kiss to the heart before embracing him again in understanding.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks you Lancette as always x


	24. A Vampire, a God and a Ghost Walk Into a Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell and Anders catch up on alone time ;) and Mitchell meets the Johnson crew.

Anders stretched out in bed and yawned, his eyes opening slowly. It was strange to be back in this bed, he reached over to put his arm around Mitchell, but the bed was empty. He felt a moment of panic, before he heard Mitchell’s voice.

‘See you later, Ma,’ Mitchell was calling, before appearing with two cups of tea and a grin on his face. He sat on the bed and handed a cup to Anders.

‘There you go, gorgeous,’ Mitchell said, his eyes raking over Anders.

‘Your mum gone out?’ Anders yawned.

‘Yeah, she’s going to that big shopping place.’ He grinned again. ‘She’ll be hours.’ Mitchell leaned over to kiss Anders softly before taking his t-shirt off. ‘Hotter climate I think,’ he said lightly, before whipping his boxer shorts off too.

Anders took a swig of the tea before setting it down and removing his t-shirt too. ‘Very hot this morning,’ he agreed, sliding towards Mitchell on the bed. Mitchell smiled before pushing Anders flat on his back and rolling on top of him, pinning him down. ‘Did you have any plans while your mum’s out?’ Anders asked, moaning slightly as he felt Mitchell’s erection dig into his thigh.

‘I’ve not had you for over a week,’ Mitchell said, his voice almost a growl. ‘Not even a wank from you,’ he bit at Anders neck, not caring if it left a mark.

‘Your mum’s been around,’ Anders said, moaning openly now as Mitchell’s hot weight pinned him down.

‘Don’t make fuckin’ excuses,’ Mitchell said, definitely growling this time, bending his head to lick, then bite at Anders’ nipples. ‘You know I want you, I want you so badly.’

‘I want you too, I need you.’

‘Need me to do what?’

‘Fuck me,’ Anders said, his hands running down Mitchell’s back, squeezing his arse, before pulling it apart. ‘Or maybe you want my cock in here,’ he said, his finger starting to tease Mitchell’s hole. Mitchell groaned, shifted up the bed to give Anders better access and bent his knees so he was more crouched over Anders.

Anders was stroking their cocks together slowly with one hand while the other teased, never pushing inside, but applying increasing pressure to Mitchell’s hole. After a while Anders stopped and leaned over to the bedside drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube, Mitchell kissed and licked at his neck and chest as Anders squeezed it over his fingers.

‘No, wait,’ Anders said, his dry hand cupping and gently squeezing Mitchell’s balls. ‘I want to open you with my tongue first, turn around.’ Mitchell grinned wickedly and placed his hand in the centre of Anders’ chest.

‘You’re such a filthy, wicked little god,’ he murmured, kissing him hard before turning round and lowering himself onto Anders’ face. Anders grinned as he pulled Mitchell’s cheeks apart and his tongue set to work. Mitchell was on his knees and elbows now as Anders licked him out, he was moaning softly, his cock leaking and bobbing on Anders chest. Mitchell’s pleasure was complete when he buried his face in the crook of Anders’ thigh, nosing and kissing Anders’ balls before wrapping his mouth around his cock, sucking and licking messily as Anders opened him up more and more.

They were usually quiet but for the moans and grunts as they pleasured  each other, it was only when Anders pushed Mitchell’s arse away from his face with a slap to his buttock their familiar sex talk resumed.

‘So, my gorgeous boy wants fucking?’ Anders asked, his mouth and chin wet still and panting slightly, as he finally inserted a lubed finger. Mitchell moaned around his cock. ‘I’ll take that as a yes. God, you’re fucking tight,’ he grunted as Mitchell swirled his tongue around the head of his cock. Anders twisted his finger and reached for the lube, adding more before pushing a second finger in, tight muscle clenching around his digits as he thrust them deeper. Mitchell suddenly cried out and pulled his mouth off Anders’ cock.

‘Oh god, yes, oh god,’ Mitchell moaned, burying his face between Anders’ thigh and hip.  Anders laughed and curled his fingers again, causing Mitchell to yelp and moan loudly.

‘Can’t wait to be in you, gonna stretch you so much and fill you with my spunk.’

‘Yes, god, yes, I need it,’ Mitchell moaned. ‘I’m ready.’

‘Not yet,’ Anders said, squeezing a third finger in and scissoring now, as well as aiming for Mitchell’s prostate. He knew he’d found his mark when Mitchell’s back arched and he threw his head back. Anders slapped his buttock, but continued to stroke.

‘Oh god,’ Mitchell cried. ‘Oh god, don’t stop, fuck, fuck, fuck!’ He threw his head back again and then bit Anders’ thigh, grunting as Anders kept up the relentless stroking of his prostate. Mitchell reached underneath his body for his neglected cock and began to stroke himself.

‘That’s it,’ Anders said. ‘You make yourself come, you won’t need to do much, will you?’ he murmured, increasing the pressure so Mitchell was letting out a series of long cries, his hair was wild as he tossed his head around and after a few more moments he was coming hard and loudly over Anders’ chest.

‘Wow, so much spunk,’ Anders grinned as Mitchell finally stopped coming and rested his face on Anders’ crotch, panting and making little moans as Anders’ fingers were  still firmly inside him, stopping him from dropping his bottom as he collapsed after coming. ‘Well, as you’ve so nicely painted my chest, how about I fill your arse. I’m gonna fill you so much you’ll feel it for days.’

‘God, yes,’ Mitchell moaned, kissing Anders’ hard prick sloppily, getting it nice and wet. ‘Let me ride you.’

‘Fuck yes,’ Anders moaned, pulling his fingers free and wiping them on the sheets as Mitchell scooted around so he was lowering himself onto Anders cock. Mitchell let out a long, deep moan as he was penetrated. He then stilled, his head bowed, swollen lips parted as his hair hung over his face. Anders moaned and reached up, stroking his hair back, running his hands over Mitchell’s chest and arms.

‘Oh god, you’re so fucking tight,’ Anders moaned as Mitchell leaned forward to kiss him, starting to move slowly as their lips touched. ‘My love,’ Anders murmured, taking himself by surprise. ‘Oh god, you feel good.’

Mitchell couldn’t speak, it was too intense, both physically and the way Anders was talking to him.

‘I thought I’d lose you,’ Anders murmured, moaning again as Mitchell moved a little faster.

‘Never, I love you, oh god, I love you.’ He let out a long moan. ‘God, it’s so full, fuck.’

Anders kissed him again, ‘I love you,’ he breathed almost inaudibly. Mitchell kissed him, before letting out another long, deep moan. ‘God, the noises you make when you’re being fucked are so fucking hot.’ Anders gripped Mitchell’s hips and thrust up, quickening the pace and drawing out more moans and grunts as Mitchell was filled again and again.

Mitchell was hard again now and felt on edge, as if he would come apart at any moment he was so stretched and full. Anders was stroking his hair back as Mitchell rode him and kissing him, telling him he was beautiful, that he was loved. Mitchell moved faster, wanting to bring Anders over the edge, give him pleasure. He felt it inside as Anders tensed and came, before he heard his name shouted and felt the strong grip of Anders’ fingers in his shoulder. He carried on moving until the wave had crashed and Anders lay panting beneath him.

Mitchell was still hard, his cock jutting up proudly against his stomach as he sat, still impaled on Anders.

‘Come for me,’ Anders said, smiling lazily as Mitchell wrapped a hand around his cock. ‘Come for me again. While I’m still in you. God, can you feel how wet you are inside now? Can you feel what I’ve done to you?’

‘Yes, oh god, yes,’ Mitchell murmured. He stroked himself fast now, almost there.

‘I want you always, only you, my beautiful John,’ Anders told him. Mitchell’s hand stuttered as he let out a small cry and spilt over Anders’ stomach, before collapsing on top of Anders, heedless of the sticky mess on Anders’ chest and sliding between Mitchell’s legs.

~

Mitchell had his head on Anders’ chest, he liked lying like this, feeling Anders’ wiry chest hair against his face, hearing his heartbeat so close. He was kissing and nosing at his chest while Anders stroked his hair.

‘I’ve missed this,’ Anders said.

‘We’ll have sex more now,’ Mitchell promised.

‘I mean this, I love this, just being with you, in our own space, where nobody can touch us.’

Mitchell lifted his head up and kissed Anders, his gaze intense and adoring. ‘I love it too.’ Another kiss, longer this time. ‘And I love you, more than I can ever tell you.’

‘I love you too,’ Anders said softly, wrapping his arms around Mitchell tightly, as if to reassure himself Mitchell was still there.

‘It’ll be ok now, I promise. Charlotte won’t follow us.’

‘Did you know your mum could do that?’

‘No, Jesus, no. I mean I knew ghosts were powerful, but god only knows what she’s done to be able to do that. She won’t tell me, but she promised me it’s fine. She says the men with st… that they don’t mind taking an extra one.’

‘Who? Who are you talking about?’ Anders sounded worried.

‘People only the dead know. You’re not dead. Forget about it.’

‘But you know?’

‘I died.’

‘So you know what comes after?’

‘Yeah, sort of I guess. But don’t ask me. Just live, Anders, love life, don’t be thinking about death.’

‘If I died would I be a ghost?’

‘Probably not, most people aren’t. You know the door? The door I told you about. If you take your door you pass over and that’s it. Ghosts don’t take their door.’

‘But your mum did?’

‘Yeah, mum’s unusual, in lots of ways.’

‘And you’ve been back, through the door.’

‘To get Annie. She didn’t want to go.’ He stroked Anders’ chest. ‘I’d do the same for you, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’d do anything for you.’

‘Your mum’s definitely ok with me now, isn’t she?’

Mitchell laughed at that. ‘Of course she is. You’re her little hero.’ Anders smiled, pleased at that. ‘Don’t worry, she’s not going to throw you into hell.’

‘She’s not going back though, is she?’

‘I don’t know, maybe when she knows I’m ok.’ Mitchell was evasive, tensing up, wondering if Anders was fed up with his mother.

‘I’d miss her. I quite like having her around now. Anyway, she’s dealing with all the stuff with the flat in London, which is a god sent. And Dawn is hopeless with houses so I asked her to look into a place here. We need somewhere bigger for all of us and I want somewhere that’s yours too.’

Mitchell propped himself up on his elbow and gazed at Anders, a smile on his face. ‘God, I love you, Anders Johnson.’

‘What?’

‘You. Buying a house we can all live in. I can’t go on the deeds though, it’s your money.’

‘Nonsense. You earned it too. And I want to give it to you anyway. What’s mine is yours. You’re not going to leave me, are you?’ Anders asked with a short laugh, but Mitchell heard the edge.

‘Of course I’m not, not ever. I’m going to love you until your dying day. And beyond, because I can walk through that door with you.’

Anders swallowed and blinked, before smiling. ‘You want a pool?’

‘If you like. Mum would like a sea view, she always liked the sea.’

‘The great thing is she can scope out the houses without getting an appointment with the estate agents, it’s perfect. And she can listen to how they’re trying to rip us off.’

‘Are you using my mother as a spy?’

‘Well…’

Mitchell laughed. ‘I bet she loves it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her as happy as she is now.’

‘Even though she’s dead?’

‘She’s not sad anymore, she knows her babies are there for her, she’s got all her children back.’

‘But they’re on the other side.’

‘Yeah, but she’s seen them, she knows they’re fine and with my father.’

‘She misses your dad though. Misses screwing him I think.’

Mitchell yelped. ‘What?’ he cried, starting to cough and splutter.

‘She was just saying to me the other day how she mainly got together with him so they could screw,’ Anders said casually.

‘Anders! That is first of all not true and secondly, that is my parents and can we not talk about them screwing.’

‘It is true, Ellen told me.’

‘That’s crap. They fell in love and definitely did not marry so they could screw.’

‘They didn’t marry to screw, they married because they screwed.’ Anders rolled his eyes. ‘Your mum’s not nearly as repressed as you, you know.’

‘I am not repressed just because I don’t want to have a conversation about my dead parents having sex!’

‘Well I think your mum would have been a real laugh back in the day. In fact she is now. I wish she could get drunk with us.’

‘I’m not sure I like the sound of that. When have you been having all these cosy chats with her anyway?’

‘Oh you know, she tells me things because I’m not a massive prude.’

‘I don’t know how you can say that after what we’ve just done.’ Mitchell pouted and Anders kissed him.

‘Because half of what gets you off is just how naughty you think you’re being,’ Anders grinned, tapping his nose before kissing him again. ‘Anyway, when’s your mum back?’

‘Not for a while.’

‘Good, because I have more plans for you.’

And with that Anders kissed him again, pulling him down this time and wrapping his legs around Mitchell’s waist.

~

Anders sat in at the bar in Mike’s pub nursing a bottle of beer. Michele was glaring at him from the other end of the bar, where she was huddled with Stacey and Ingrid, he had no doubt they were discussing him, the thought made him smirk.

‘Where’s Axl?’ Anders asked Mike.

‘Ty was fetching him.’

‘And Dawn’s definitely not coming?’

‘I hope not, I told him it was family business.’

‘Good. Where’s Olaf by the way?’

‘With Ty and Axl, I hope.’

Mike stopped to serve a customer before turning back to Anders.

‘I think your girlfriend has the hots for me,’ Anders said, nodding towards Michele. ‘I assume that’s why she keeps staring at me,’ he said loudly enough for her to hear. ‘You have to tell her this is taken now,’ he said, waving a hand down his body.

Mike rolled his eyes and then looked up to see their other brothers wander in with Olaf. Anders stood up and smiled. Olaf came forward and pulled him into a bear hug, this was followed by a hug from Ty and finally from Axl.

‘We all good, bro?’ Anders asked Axl, looking up at him.

‘You’re my brother, aren’t you?’ Axl said, then slapped his back. ‘Good to have you back, we’ve kind of missed you.’

‘You missed my drugs and vodka.’

‘Well, yeah, but you too.’

‘Well, no more drugs, baby brother, not at my place anyway.’

‘Does your boyfriend disapprove?’

‘No, he approves, his mother doesn’t.’ Axl looked confused. ‘You’ll meet her soon, she’s coming too, hence no mortals.’

‘Is she a vampire too?’ Axl whispered.

‘No, she’s a ghost,’ Anders said with a smile, enjoying Axl’s look of surprise and incomprehansion. ‘And one of my favourite people, so be nice.’

By the time Mitchell arrived the Johnsons were sat in a corner with the goddesses, steadily getting louder the more they drank. Anders was enjoying their company, it had been a long time and it was good to be back amongst his own, regaling them with tales of London.

‘So, are you saying French chicks are hotter than English ones?’ Axl asked, after Anders recounted his night in Paris, not long before he met Mitchell.

‘No, that one was gorgeous, but the hottest girl I ever met was English, sorry ladies. I’m just saying the French are more exotic. But the most exotic, in Europe anyway, are the Spanish and Italians.’

‘What are their chicks like?’ Axl asked.

‘Can’t remember, but I do remember the most gorgeous guy in Rome. Aww, look at your little face.’ Anders laughed and continued, enjoying making Axl’s eyes widen. ‘I even remember his name, Paolo Gianetti, six foot of Italian muscle.’ Anders let out a low whistle. ‘I like them tall, dark and handsome as you’ll see when John shows.’

‘When is he showing?’ Stacey asked, perched on Olaf’s lap.

‘Blown you out?’ Michele asked.

‘He’s waiting for Ellen to finish a phone call to London about my flat.’

‘His mother the ghost?’ Ingrid said. ‘I think it’s so lovely you’ve become a family man.’

‘Get lost, that’s a load of crap. Ellen’s not really like other mothers.’

‘She sounds exactly like other mothers, just not like your mother, which is a good thing,’ Ingrid said, pouring herself another large measure of vodka from the bottle on the table. ‘And we’re looking forward to meeting your boyfriend, I’ve even thrown out all the garlic at home.’

‘Ingrid, garlic doesn’t really affect vampires. In fact, John loves garlic bread.’

‘Oh. Ok.’ Ingrid took a swig of her drink and said nothing as Anders shook his head.

‘I still say he’s chickened out,’ Michele opined, examining her nails.

‘He’s on his way,’ Anders said confidently. ‘Do me a favour and try not to make it too obvious when he gets here.’

‘What?’ she snapped.

‘How much you have the horn for him, you’re a bit slutty when you’re turned on.’

‘As if. He’s a cleaner, I do not do cleaners.’

‘He’s definitely hotter than anyone you’ve shagged,’ Anders smiled.

‘You’re so deluded. Bragi, god of talking crap.’

‘I wonder if he’s better looking than that new doctor,’ Stacey said. ‘I dropped Michele at work today and there was a hot new doctor.’

‘There’s no way anyone like that would shag Anders, not without Bragi’s help anyway,  and he was not gay,’ Michele stated.

‘How can you tell?’ Mike asked, raising his eyebrows. ‘None of you ever guessed about Anders.’

‘I can just tell. I do have powers.’ Anders sniggered at this, earning him another glare.

‘And I’m not gay,’ Anders said. ‘Because I do like chicks, chicks and dicks. Like Michele, see we have lots in common.’

Michele gave him a sarcastic smile. ‘Ha ha, thankfully that’s the only thing I have in common with you.’

‘Ah, here we are,’ Ty said, looking relieved to have a distraction from Michele and Anders’ sniping. He smiled warmly as Mitchell walked into the bar, his mother on his arm. Anders still had his back to the door, he looked over his shoulder, gave a wave and grinned, watching the reaction of his companions. Mike smiled and opened the fridge for a beer for Mitchell. Olaf and Ingrid openly stared, looking fascinated by their first glimpse of a vampire. Axl smiled, slightly nervously and Michele and Stacey looked surprised, Stacey amusedly so, Michele’s expression was more one of mild horror. Anders turned to his boyfriend.

 

 

‘There you are, everyone this is Mitchell and his mum, Ellen.’ They both smiled. ‘Mike you know, Ellen, this is Ty,’ Anders said as Ty stepped forward to shake Mitchell’s hand and gave Ellen a kiss on the cheek. Anders wondered if he’d notice her cool feel, being as he was always cold himself. ‘This is my youngest brother, Axl, also Odin,’ Anders continued, gesturing to Axl who smiled nervously. ‘My grandfather, Olaf, also Baldr and an oracle. And these ladies are Ingrid, also Snotra and an oracle; Stacey, also Fuller, handmaiden to Frigg; and Michele, also Sjofn, minor love goddess.’

‘It’s good to meet you all,’ Mitchell said. ‘We’ve been looking forward to it. Didn’t we meet this morning?’ he said to Michele and Stacey. ‘I saw you at the hospital.’

‘Yeah, that’s right,’ Stacey said. ‘We thought you were a new doctor.’

 ‘Obviously not,’ Michele said icily.

‘No,’ Mitchell laughed. ‘But I do start work as a porter next week. I guess I’ll see you around if you work on that ward.’

‘Yeah,’ Michele said as Anders smirked behind Mitchell, having to work very hard not to double over laughing.

‘So,’ Mike said. ‘A toast, to Anders coming home, and to Mitchell and Ellen.’

They all raised their drinks to a collective cry of ‘Skal’.

~

Two hours later the bar was closed to the public and Mitchell, having beaten everyone else, was playing Mike on the newly installed pool table.

‘You are aware John’s already won,’ Anders said. ‘Because playing Ullr is hardly fair.’

‘Yeah, but I want to see if I can feel anything,’ Mitchell said, lining up a shot, which he missed.

‘What would you feel?’ Stacey asked. She’d taken a shine to Mitchell, as had Ingrid.

‘Well,’ Mitchell said, stepping back from the table and twisting the pool cue in his hands. ‘When Anders uses his powers on me, you know, to stop me craving blood, I can feel a sort of frisson, it’s like I can feel his power.’

‘He’s minor god,’ Michele said, rolling her eyes.

‘Says the minor goddess,’ Anders snapped back. ‘I’m actually really powerful,’ he continued smugly. ‘Not as powerful as Ellen, but more powerful than you lot.’

‘How’s Ellen powerful?’ Stacey asked, looking over her shoulder to where Ellen was in deep conversation with Olaf and Ingrid.

‘Ghosts can make things move, when they’re upset or angry, and some can learn to control that,’ Mitchell explained. ‘Mum can control it, she can also do, er, things that only the dead know.’

‘What’s that mean?’ Michele asked, genuinely curious.

‘It means it’s best to stay on her good side,’ Mitchell said pointedly. ‘She’s protective.’

‘I’ll be nice,’ Michele smiled.

‘Of Anders too. But mainly mum’s a typical Edwardian Irishwoman, who can use the internet and fancies herself a real estate expert.’

Anders laughed, as did Stacey and even Michele allowed a small smile. Anders put his arm around Mitchell and kissed his cheek. It hadn’t been a bad night.

‘And she likes microwaves and electrical irons and kettles,’ Anders added.

‘And phones, she has an iPhone,’ Mitchell added, watching Mike quickly pot the remaining balls. ‘This is insane, how is anyone that good.’

‘Ullr,’ Anders shrugged. ‘Told you it was annoying. You beat everyone else though.’

Mitchell looked over at his mum, who was laughing at something Olaf had told her and yawned.

‘You tired, old man?’ Anders asked. ‘We’ll call it a night after this round.’

Mitchell gave him a small, grateful smile, before putting on a happy face again.

~

It was 3am by the time they got home. Ellen had come too, despite not needing to sleep. The weather had suddenly taken a cold turn as they headed into winter and Ellen was ordering an electric blanket for them on Amazon as they got ready for bed.

‘That went quite well,’ Anders said, pulling a long sleeved t-shirt on for bed. Mitchell was already in bed, pulling the covers tightly around him.

‘Yeah, they all seemed to not hate me, apart from Michele.’

‘She hates everyone, she’s just really jealous as she wants this,’ Anders said, pointing to his cock. ‘In fact she’s probably shagging Mike and dreaming she’s sandwiched between us right now.’

Mitchell laughed. ‘She’s probably not, but don’t let that stop your fantasies. And no, we are not having a threesome, even if she wasn’t your brother’s girlfriend.’

‘She’d cut your fucking balls off. No, we should have a threesome with someone sane.’

‘Am I not enough for you?’ Mitchell asked with a pout.

‘Of course you are, I’m only joking,’ Anders said quickly before laughing as he realised Mitchell was jesting. He got into bed and snuggled up to Mitchell. ‘I’m glad you liked them.’

‘Me too,’ Mitchell said kissing his forehead. ‘Do you think they’ve got over me being a vampire?’

‘Your mum said she had an interesting conversation with Olaf and Ingrid, she said she explained, whatever that means.’

‘They seemed to like mum at least. And not freak out she’s dead.’

‘Of course they like your mum, everyone likes your mum.’

‘I’m glad. I’m glad she’s getting us an electric blanket too, it’s so cold in this flat.’

‘Awww, let me warm you up,’ Anders said, slipping a hand to Mitchell’s crotch. Mitchell sighed happily and wrapped his arms around Anders. ‘There, that’s it, now can you be very, very quiet?’

‘As quiet as they grave,’ Mitchell promised with a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette


	25. And on to Norsewood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell and Anders get used to New Zealand and there's a revelation in store for Dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really long chapter, sorry! I thought about breaking it up, but couldn't find a natural break. Thanks to Lancette for her usual wisdom and spotting most of my typos.

**Two months later**

‘Is that bacon I smell?’ Anders said, walking into the kitchen and picking up a waiting mug of coffee. Ellen smiled at him.

‘Morning, lovey, is John awake?’

‘Barely, he’s staying in bed where it’s warm, he’s complaining about it being freezing in July, personally I don’t think it’s any colder than London in July. But he doesn’t have to be in until ten. Are you doing eggs with that by the way?’

‘I can do, no, you sit down,’ she said as he went to the fridge.

‘You’re a star, Ells,’ Anders smiled, taking a seat at the table.

‘Oh, I had a conversation with that estate agent in London, after he stopped pretending not to understand my accent, I mean honestly. But I told him he’s to make sure the sale goes through by Friday or we’re pulling out and I told him I’d be checking up on him. And I will, Mr Winston is going to spy on him for me.’

‘Excellent,’ Anders said, laughing to himself at the thought of Mr Winston agreeing to help Anders to please Ellen. ‘Talking of spying there’s a new property come up for sale I want you to scope out, I’ve emailed you the details.’

‘Oh I do love nosing around these houses.’

‘You do just stick to the ones we’re thinking of buying, don’t you?’

‘Of course,’ Ellen said, smiling sweetly. Anders shook his head, not sure if he believed her.

‘Hey, can you swing by with my dinner later? Dawn’s making me go to some do, it sounds terrible but she says it’s important I show my face.’

‘Sure I can, won’t you get food there?’

‘It’s a drinks thing and I have a meeting until 6.30, I’ve told that girl to stop putting anything in my diary after six, I’d use Bragi, but John says I mustn’t.’

‘Quite right too. Anyway, I thought you liked your job?’

‘I’d rather be with John and he’s refused to come to anything work related ever again. I mean, working for me in London wasn’t that bad.’

Ellen laughed as she put the bacon onto plates and buttered toast. ‘You’ve scarred him for life’.

‘Me?’ Anders asked. ‘I’m an angel. Ask Dawn.’

‘Anyway, are you going to take this to him or am I?’ she said, holding up a mug of coffee.

‘I will,’ Anders said, yawning again. He took the mug off Ellen and they exchanged smiles, before Anders went to wake Mitchell.

~

**Two weeks later**

Mitchell was huddled outside the back of Mike’s bar, smoking. It was a cold night and he wanted to be back inside where it was warm. He smiled as Mike stepped out to put a crate of empty bottles out.

‘Getting through them this evening,’ Mitchell commented.

‘Always do. Especially with my family here. I’m telling you when you guys get your new place you’d better be prepared for Olaf to drink you out of house and home.’

Mitchell smiled. ‘Mum would like the company, but she’d have him doing housework.’

‘Now that I’d like to see. Still, she’s straightened Anders out.’

‘I like to think I had a helping hand in that,’ Mitchell laughed, dropping his cigarette to the ground and grinding it out with his boot.

‘Well, whatever, he’s a changed man. Not entirely of course, he’s still the crudest god of poetry I’ve ever known.’

‘Ah, he’s lovely,’ Mitchell said, he was feeling warm and fuzzy from the alcohol and couldn’t help smiling when he thought of Anders. Mike raised his eyebrows and gave a quizzical smile back.

‘I meant he’s not such a selfish prick anymore, but if you say so.’

‘I do, he’s the best person I’ve ever met.’ They began to walk back into the bar. ‘It’s not just because he’s saved me, he’s given me a reason to live again, he’s made me enjoy living again.’

‘With Bragi?’

‘No, no, he doesn’t need Bragi to do that, I don’t love him for Bragi, I just love him for him.’

Mike looked at Mitchell. ‘Good,’ he said finally, before going through the door into the warm bar again. Mitchell smiled and followed.

 

**Four weeks later**

‘John,’ Anders said, lying on the settee reading his iPad. ‘Would you still love me if I was a frost giant?’

‘What?’ Mitchell said, he was sitting on the end of the settee reading, with Anders’ feet in his lap.

‘I’m just reading about frost giants, I took Grandpa’s advice and I’m reading up on Norse myths.’

‘I’d love you whatever you were,’ Mitchell said, shaking his head and going back to his book.

‘What if I was twenty foot tall? Would you love me then?’

‘Yes.’

‘What if I was blue?’

‘Blue?’

‘Yeah, like in this,’ Anders said showing Mitchell an illustration where the frost giant was blue.

‘You have blue eyes, I could live with it.’

‘If I was twenty foot tall, would I have a two foot long cock?’

‘No. It’s a well-known fact all giants have micro penises, Anders. You’d have a sixty foot sports car to make up for it.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘They taught us at Sunday school, just after they showed us where the leprechauns lived.’

‘Are you taking the piss?’

Mitchell rolled his eyes and then laughed. ‘Of course I am. Hey, what’s it say about Bragi?’

‘Says I’m awesome obviously. Actually I did find out something new, I’m welcome in all nine realms, they say it’s because of my poetry, but I reckon it’s because all gods love sex and want me to nail them.’

‘You do, do you?’

‘Well, most people want to nail me.’

Mitchell put his book down and looked at Anders, a glint in his eye. ‘Your brothers don’t.’

‘Obviously, everyone else is most.’

‘My mother doesn’t.’

Anders held his hand up and made a not sure motion. ‘I think if she wasn’t your mother and already married and dead she’d be up for it.’

‘What?’ Mitchell spluttered. ‘She most definitely would not.’

‘She thinks I’m really handsome.’

‘In a motherly way! Jesus! She said you’re like another son to her the other night!’

‘Did she really say that?’ Anders asked.

‘Yes, so shut up!’

Anders smiled, no longer teasing, it was a warm, pleased smile. ‘I’m kidding. You know I adore my Auntie Ells. But apart from family everyone else pretty much wants to nail me.’

‘Dawn doesn’t.’

‘This is true and you know what, I’ve always thought Dawn had lesbian tendencies and this proves it. Oh, I meant to tell you too, she thinks I’m cheating on you by the way.’ Anders sniggered. ‘With a girl called Ellen.’

Mitchell rolled his eyes. ‘What did you do?’

‘She’s just heard me chatting to Ells when she pops by, she thinks I’m skyping a girl.’

Mitchell shook his head. ‘Poor Dawn, someone should really tell her, we all lie to her all the time and you use Bragi on her way too much.’

‘Now you know we can’t tell her, Mike would go mental. Anyway she’s a mortal.’

‘I’ve told loads of mortals about my condition.’

‘Yeah, but then she’d find out about me and then she’d know when I was going to use my powers on her and it would be harder to get her to go for a little walk when I want you to suck me off at work.’

‘Anders Johnson, you are a wicked little god,’ Mitchell said, taking the iPad off him and putting it on the table, before leaning over him  and nipping at his throat. ‘A very wicked, very bad, bad, god.’

‘Oh no,’ Anders said in mock horror. ‘What will Big Bad John do to me?’

‘I’ll wipe the fuckin’ smirk off your face,’ Mitchell growled, grabbing a fist full of hair and kissing him hard on the mouth as they slid down the sofa together, Anders’ legs wrapping around Mitchell.

~

**A month later**

Anders was grinning, it was early morning, earlier than Mitchell had to be awake and Mitchell was dreaming, turning in his sleep, grinding into the mattress, rock hard. Anders waited until Mitchell rolled onto his back again before palming his hard cock, only the thin fabric of his boxers between their flesh.

‘What are you dreaming of?’ Anders whispered. Mitchell grunted and thrust up towards Anders’ hand. ‘Are you dreaming of fucking me?’ He slipped his hand inside the boxers now and wrapped it around Mitchell’s cock. ‘Or maybe a threesome, with a nice hot girl with great tits.’

Mitchell smiled at that, his eyes opening slowly. He might have said something that sounded like Jane, Anders wasn’t sure, but he pursued the thought nonetheless.

‘Jane had nice tits,’ Anders continued. ‘Small, but perfectly formed.’

‘God, yeah,’ Mitchell groaned, losing his inhibitions in his semi-conscious state. He had been dreaming of her, they’d been feeding together and fucking and now Anders was jerking him off and continuing his fantasies.

‘What else did you dream about? Filling her while I fuck you?’ Anders asked, yanking down Mitchell’s boxers and slipping a hand under his balls, stroking the sensitive skin there. Mitchell nodded and pulled Anders to him.

‘I want it all. You, her, all of it. Fuck, that’s good,’ Mitchell moaned as Anders continued stroking him. It didn’t take Mitchell long to come, all the while with Anders whispering increasingly filthy things about him and Jane in his ear. Anders swiftly followed, spilling over Mitchell’s exposed midriff then grinning as he rubbed the messy mixture of their come into Mitchell’s stomach.

~

Anders frowned as they wandered down the main street, after a good start to the day he was now feeling thoroughly pissed off. They were in Norsewood, the start of their trip around the North Island (which they were doing in bits so as not to incur Dawn’s wrath, she was not pleased when Anders announced he’d be taking some holiday). They planned to explore the whole country of course, but Anders said it would need longer to do the South Island properly and they should wait for summer. He wanted Mitchell's big adventure to be the real deal and but hoped this shorter trip would encourage him to get out more.

The town he’d grown up in was the starting point. He hadn’t lived in the actual town of course, but in a farm just out of town, but it was still as close as you could get, seeing as the farm building had burnt down not long after they’d moved out.

‘I still don’t see why we had to start here,’ Anders moaned. ‘It would have made far more sense to go to Hastings, Taupo, just about any-fucking-where but here first.’

‘We want to see where you grew up,’ Mitchell said, looking around with interest. ‘Especially mum. So we stop off here, then on to Wellington, then a slow winding trip back north.’

‘Well she’s in for a fucking disappointment,’ Anders said, watching Ellen walk ahead filming the road on her phone.

They spent the afternoon in the Norsewood Pioneer Cottage Museum, Ellen was fascinated by this, comparing the Scandinavian artefacts to what she remembered from her girlhood in Ireland in the same period and lamenting the relative poverty of her family. Then they went to look at the Bindalsfaering, a ship gifted to the town by the Norwegian government, then finally smiling Anders showed them a flat roofed, dark green building which was now a café.

‘What’s this?’ Mitchell said.

‘Café,’ Anders said, smirking.

‘I thought we were eating at the hotel.’

‘Yeah, that’s not why we’re here, come round the back.’ They followed him to the back of the building where he grinned pointed to a wall. ‘There. That’s the spot I lost my virginity.’

‘Oh Jesus, and why exactly would I or my mother want to know that?’

‘It was an important moment. And quite literally the best thing that had happened to me in my fifteen years of existence.’

‘Fifteen?’ Mitchell and Ellen said together.

‘My birthday,’ Anders said smugly. ‘Ah, Kim, or perhaps it was Kerry, or Katie. I’m sure it was something with a K, no, no, Kelly… I think.’

‘My mother does not need to hear this,’ Mitchell said, putting up a hand to signal stop.

‘Oh, just because you’re jealous you didn’t pop your cherry until you were about thirty.’

‘I wasn’t thirty,’ Mitchell ground out. ‘And can you not speak like that in front of mum.’

‘Sorry, Ells,’ Anders said, grinning at her as they began to walk back down the road towards the hotel they’d booked into.

‘It’s terrible you don’t remember the poor lass’s name,’ Ellen said, scowling at him. ‘And you’ve a mouth like a sewer.’

‘I’ll be good now,’ he said, holding his hands up. ‘And stop making John feel inadequate.’

‘Anders!’ she scolded.

‘Why are you being such a dick today?’ Mitchell asked, annoyed.

‘No I’m not, you’re just hyper sensitive as your first time wasn’t your fucking wedding night like you dreamed of. But hey, life’s not all a bed of roses, at least you never got hitched.’

‘That’s actually something I regret about this life,’ he said.

‘Why? Why the fuck would you want to get married?’

‘Maybe there’s been people I’ve loved, that I love, that I’d like to spend the rest of my life with.’

‘So? Spend the rest of your life with them then. You don’t need to get married and have the happiness crushed out of your soul.’

‘Did you parents not have a happy marriage?’ Ellen asked, squeezing in between them and taking Anders’ arm.

‘No, not really. Dad took off a lot, for good when Axl was a baby.’

‘I’m sorry, lovey,’ Ellen said.

‘I’m not, he was a fucking prick.’

Mitchell and Ellen looked at each other.

‘Well he was. Hey, you want to see the spot where he kicked the crap of out mum because she forget to get his beer? Just round the block.’ And with that he stormed off.

Ellen found him first, lying on the grass in a large park. He was staring at the sky. ‘I used to come here to get stoned,’ he said as she lay down next to him and put a hand on his arm.

‘We shouldn’t have come here, I’m sorry for being so insistent,’ Ellen said softly.

‘You didn’t know.’

‘Why did you never say anything?’

‘Say what? My father was a violent drunk and my mother found her children so unbearable that she left us to become a fucking tree?’

‘I’m sure that wasn’t you.’

‘Well dad was long gone so it’s a bit hard to see what else it could be.’

Ellen sat up and picked up his hand, she looked at him, her dark eyes full of sadness. ‘Whatever problems your mum had, it wasn’t you. Lovey, I’ve only known you a few months, but I can’t imagine why anyone would ever leave you.’

‘You can’t imagine not loving your kids, but let me tell you, gods make bad parents. Mike was more of a parent than either of them.’

‘Is that why you always think John’s going to leave you?’

‘I don’t think that.’

‘He’s not. And I know I’m not your real mother, but I’ve come to love you very much.’

Anders sat up and looked at Ellen, not trusting himself to speak. Before Ellen could say more Mitchell strode up behind them.

‘Where have you been?’ he said, still annoyed.

‘Don’t speak,’ Anders said, his voice wavering as Ellen wrapped her arms around him, holding him to her in the sort of embrace he only had the vaguest memories of as a very small child, in the embrace of a mother.

~

**A week later**

‘Mitchell, I need to talk to you,’ Dawn said, her face stricken. She was standing in the flat, oblivious to Ellen watching the TV. Mitchell picked up the remote and turned it down, ushering Dawn to the dining table and giving his mother a warning glance.

‘I’ll go and make tea, shall I?’ Ellen said.

‘I’ll make tea,’ Mitchell said suddenly.

‘Really,’ Dawn said. ‘I’m fine, this won’t take long.’ He could tell she was steeling herself. ‘I need to talk to you about Anders.’

Mitchell’s heart sank, he had an idea what was coming. ‘I know all about Anders,’ Mitchell said softly.

‘Really? Because he’s not changed, well he has, but he’s… I don’t know how to tell you. I think he’s,’ she struggled for the right words as Mitchell touched her hand. ‘I’m sorry, you’re so nice and don’t deserve this, but I’ve heard him chatting to someone a lot, obviously a woman, and when I come in he stops, I think he’s on the phone or skype.’

‘Dawn…’ he began.

‘No, hear me out, I checked out who she was, she’s called Ellen and she’s definitely not a client, I checked with Ty and she’s not a family friend and well, Anders doesn’t have friends, especially women he flirts with.’

‘Flirting!’ Ellen exclaimed. ‘Good Lord above! What a notion.’

‘What was that?’ Dawn asked. Mitchell looked around, puzzled, he was practised at ignoring ghosts in mortal company and was sure he’d not given anything away.

‘What was what?’

‘I thought I heard something.’

‘John, I’m going to put your clothes away,’ Ellen said, getting up and heading to the bedroom.

‘There, again, I thought I heard something.’

Mitchell swallowed. He didn’t want to lie to Dawn, he didn’t want to wait for Anders to come back and watch him sweet talk her with Bragi, watch her eyes gaze at him blankly, not when she had shown him such loyalty, this was obviously costing her a lot.

‘Dawn,’ Mitchell said kindly, taking her hand. ‘There’s something I need to tell you, firstly, Anders isn’t having an affair with anyone, not with anyone called Ellen anyway.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Yes. Ellen is my mother.’

‘I thought your family were dead.’

‘They are. Dawn, what I’m about to say is going to sound really crazy, but you know I respect you too much to lie to you and I can’t let you think that about Anders, even if it is their own fault for being careless,’ he said, raising his voice so his mother could hear.

‘What?’ Dawn looked puzzled.

‘Dawn, my mother is dead. She’s a ghost, she died in 1925.’

Dawn frowned and thought for a moment. ‘But, you’re what? Twenty-five? Twenty-six?’

‘I’m one hundred and twenty-one. I was born in 1893, I died in 1917, a young soldier sent to war. For the past ninety-seven years I’ve been a vampire.’

Dawn said nothing, she just stared at him.

‘I know it sounds mad, but we exist, so do ghosts. My mum was here when you arrived, what you thought you heard was an echo of her.’

‘And Anders can see her?’

‘Yes. She wasn’t always around, she spent years looking for me, she found me in London, after you left for New Zealand. She and Anders are fond of each other.’ He allowed himself a small smile at that thought.

‘A vampire?’

Dawn looked paler than normal. She was torn between horror and laughter.

‘Yes.’

‘But you… you go out in daylight…’

‘That’s a myth, but you never see me in strong sunlight, do you? Do you have a mirror in your bag?’

Dawn nodded and rifled in her handbag for a compact mirror, pulling it out she handed it to Mitchell, who opened it. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘I have no reflection. Our image can’t be captured.’

‘It’s a trick of the light,’ Dawn said.

‘Then take my photo, get your phone out and try and take my photo. Go on.’

Dawn pulled her phone out and pointed it at him, she took several pictures then flipped through the images, her eyes widening in disbelief.

‘Where am I?’ Mitchell said. ‘You remember Anders told you never to take my picture? This is why.’

‘Oh my god,’ she whispered. ‘But you gave me this,’ she said, pointing to the crucifix around her neck.

Mitchell nodded. ‘I gave you that as I’m not the only vampire around and in London there were some who would do you harm. That doesn’t affect me as it’s yours and you’re my friend, but it would affect others.’

‘That girl, that weird girl who barged in one day and wanted Anders, she came back and she didn’t like it, asked me to cover it up.’

Mitchell nodded. ‘She was a vampire, I know her, knew her,’ he corrected.

‘And Anders knows about this?’

‘Yes, he’s always known.’

‘And can he see your mother?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then how come I can’t?’

‘You’re a mortal.’

‘And Anders isn’t?’

‘That’s for him to tell you. But he can see mum.’

‘This is the weirdest thing, I mean I should laugh, but I believe you.’

‘Thank you. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before now.’

‘How come Anders can… is he a vampire?’

‘No,’ Mitchell said. ‘That’s not really for me to say. But the important thing is Anders isn’t having an affair. I know he’s not always been a saint, but he’s not with anyone else.’

‘Is your mum here now?’ Dawn asked, accepting his explanation, much to Mitchell’s relief.

Mitchell nodded. ‘Ma!’ he called. ‘Can you come through?’

Mitchell smiled as Ellen approached them. ‘Ma, I told Dawn about me. And about you. She’s just there, on that chair.’ He watched Dawn’s eyes widen as a chair moved and Ellen sat in the seat.

‘Hello, lovey,’ Ellen said kindly. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

Mitchell watched as Dawn’s eyes fixed on the spot where his mother sat.

‘I can’t see anything,’ Dawn said, swallowing and looking alarmed. Mitchell put his arm around her and patted her shoulder.

‘It’s ok. Ma, can you write Dawn a little note, just saying hello?’

‘I could text her,’ Ellen said, fishing her mobile out her pocket.

‘No, Ma, a note, not a text,’ Mitchell said, rolling his eyes. ‘My mother has a phone, she’s addicted to it, she’s worse than a teenager,’ Mitchell added under his breath.

‘I heard that,’ Ellen said, reaching for a notepad with addresses of houses she was going to view on it. She flipped over to a new page and picked up a biro. ‘What shall I write?’

‘Just say what you’d say if Dawn could see you and hear you.’

Ellen nodded and began to write. Dawn watched with her mouth open in amazement as writing appeared on the page in an old fashioned, loopy hand.

‘There,’ Ellen said, finishing and signing her name.

Dawn picked up the paper that seemed to slide across the table of its own accord to her and read it.

Dear Dawn. Lovely to meet you properly, you’re very good to my boys, thank you. If there’s anything I can do for you, let me know. Best wishes, Ellen Mitchell.

‘I need to go for a lie down,’ Dawn said, getting to her feet. Mitchell stood up quickly with her, anticipating her dead faint and catching her in his arms.

~

‘Look, Mike,’ Anders said into his phone, sighing. ‘None of this is actually my fault, may I remind you she slapped me earlier, really hard. And I’m also annoyed with John as now I can’t use my powers on her.’ Anders held the phone away from his ear as Mike shouted at him some more. ‘Look, I really don’t know what the big deal is, I mean who’s she going to tell? And may I remind you it was Ty who told her about the god thing, John just told her about him and Ellen, which he’s perfectly entitled to do.’

Mitchell came and sat next to Anders and put a sympathetic hand on his thigh. ‘You want me to have a word?’ he mouthed. Anders shook his head.

‘Mike, I’d love to sit here and listen to you shout all night, but a few things: one Ty is really happy, he says it’s a weight off his shoulders and he’s never felt better, secondly, now she’s over the shock, Dawn is happy, she finally understands all the weirdness around Ty and doesn’t think I’m shagging around, John is happy as he isn’t lying to Dawn and I can’t use my powers on her. Axl’s fine with it and he’s the all-father, yes I know he’s also an idiot, but really the only person not happy is you and if you don’t stop ringing up and yelling at me I’m going to send Ellen over, and trust me, you do not want to get her riled up. Bye bye.’

With that he ended the call and sighed. ‘Christ, you’d think we’d taken out a full page ad on the front pages.’

‘It’s not as if she’ll tell anyone and she’s practically family,’ Mitchell said, wrapping a protective arm around Anders. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s done now anyway,’ Anders sighed. ‘She could tell I was going to use my powers on her and poked me with a stapler. You realise it’ll be much harder to get her to clear out the office when we want to fuck now, don’t you?’

‘Anders! That is not a good reason for using your powers on Dawn.’

‘Yet I never heard you complain once you had my dick in your mouth.’

‘Well, I had my mouth full,’ Mitchell said, blushing. ‘And keep your voice down.’

‘Look, you were quite happy for me to use my powers on Dawn when it meant you got to root me over the desk, so quit with the high and mighty act. Now Dawn will have to know what a horny bugger you are, because I am not having sex less because of your conscience and big mouth.’ Anders folded his arms.

‘I don’t think that’s the biggest problem here,’ Mitchell said, frowning, but letting his hand creep to Anders’ hip, his mind straying. ‘Where’s mum by the way?’

‘Out with Ingrid and Olaf, again. You know, I’m not sure they’re a good influence.’

‘Nah, it’s good for her, mum used to have loads of friends.’

‘You know they’re testing out ways that she could get drunk with them?’

‘Oh god,’ Mitchell groaned. ‘Please tell me you’re joking.’

‘You told your mum some tale about Annie being about to taste alcohol when she touched you.’

‘Yeah, but she couldn’t get drunk.’

‘Well, your mum says people can feel other sensations, she met some ghost at the shopping mall who reckons you can experience sex, which sounds really fucking creepy, but apparently this girl does it, goes round touching people having sex.’

Mitchell’s eyes widened. ‘How are you having those sort of conversations with my mother?’

‘Look, she’s not doing that obviously, because only weirdos would do that.’

Mitchell shrugged and nodded, he was thinking of Annie and the disastrous night he’d picked up a girl in Ritzies for that very purpose.

‘Oh god, you’ve done that, haven’t you? Is that what you did with Annie?’ Anders eyes widened then he let out a bark of laughter.

‘Just once and it was a fucking nightmare as I nearly attacked the poor girl,’ Mitchell snapped. ‘And can you not have these kind of conversations with my mother!’

‘Look, calm down,’ Anders said, giving him a kiss. ‘Your mum only ever had eyes for your father, so you’ve no worries there. Always going on about how hot and sexy he was.’

‘Anders! Stop it! She does not say that.’

‘Ok, ok, I’m just saying she’s not interested in any other guys. But she is interested in seeing if she can feel drunk by hanging around my disreputable grandfather and his equally hammered lady friend.’

Mitchell scowled and shook his head. ‘Well, if it keeps her happy, it’s not like she’ll be actually drunk. God, she hardly ever even drank.’

Anders shrugged. ‘She said she drank more after you left home, so did your dad, I think that’s what killed him really.’ Anders was suddenly more serious.

‘She never told me that, she never talks about him to me.’ Mitchell picked up Anders’ hand. ‘What else did she say about him?’

‘Not much, just sometimes stuff about how in love they were when they first met, how she ran off with him and let him climb in her bedroom window. But she always says that was before the babies… she said he drank and drank when you left and it soon finished him.’ Anders squeezed Mitchell’s hand. ‘She misses him I think.’

‘Why doesn’t she say this to me?’

‘It’s hard to talk to you about her relationship with your dad I guess, I don’t think she wants to spoil your view of him.’

‘By saying he was a drunk?’

‘Maybe, but I get the impression he was trying to drown a broken heart, he wasn’t horrible with it, just… just dead inside she said.’

Mitchell nodded. ‘The last time I saw him, he could hardly look at me. Mum had begged me not to go, I didn’t think I could be killed. You don’t when you’re twenty three. He’d tried to talk me out of it, but I just wanted to escape.’ Mitchell sighed. ‘I wish I had stayed, I wish I’d looked after them properly.’

‘You didn’t know,’ Anders said softly. ‘You’re a good son, John. You’re a good man, a good boyfriend and you’ve made me better.’ Mitchell smiled softly and looked at Anders with an intense, adoring gaze. Anders bathed in it for a few moments then shrugged. ‘Now stop looking so fucking gay and stick the cricket on, I love beating Australians at sport.’

~

**2 weeks later**

Mitchell and Dawn sat on Waiake Beach, it was late in the day and the sun was starting to set over the sea. Dawn shivered slightly and Mitchell put an arm around her. ‘You want my jacket?’ he asked.

‘No, you’re ok. That’s so sweet though. See, this is how I can tell you’re from a different time, guys now just aren’t gentlemen like that.’

‘Ty’s a gentleman.’

‘Yes, but then there’s Anders.’ She shook her head. ‘Sorry, I mean I know he’s your boyfriend.’

‘I can see that Anders is different with me,’ Mitchell said, smiling. ‘I know what he’s like, but he is a gentleman too. Underneath.’

‘Hmmm. He’s nicer now, than he used to be. You’ve made him a better person.’

‘Not as much as he’s made me better. He’s saved me, Dawn.’

Mitchell shivered too now, pulling his jacket tighter. He’d started to feel the cold more lately, oddly as it was getting into summer.

‘Are you ok? You look pale.’

‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘Oh god, I wish you could see this.’

‘What?’

‘Mum. She’s on that boat, waving.’ He pointed to the whale watching boat crossing the bay heading to the harbour, waved and shook his head at his mother perched on the nose end of the boat, invisible to everyone else, laughing with delight at the surf splashing her and the wind in her hair whilst she remained the only passenger that was quite dry. ‘She couldn’t wait.’

‘Are you going whale watching?’

‘Anders is taking us. It’s all mum’s idea. They think I don’t know, but they’re rubbish at surprises.’

‘Well, Anders wants to get you out,’ Dawn said, picking up a thread of concern she and Anders shared.

‘I’m fine,’ he shrugged.

‘I know, but it’s nice to have friends and do things.’

‘I’m just tired after work,’ Mitchell said truthfully. He was tired, he was always tired and twelve hour shifts didn’t help, nor did sleep broken by twisted, violent dreams so vivid he could taste skin and blood. ‘Anyway, we see you guys and Mike, even Axl now and again. Olaf and Ingrid are over a lot too, they seem to have made great friends with my mum.’

‘Family’s important,’ Dawn agreed. ‘But we all need people like us, you know, people who share our interests.’

‘There’s no people like me, thank god,’ Mitchell said. ‘I have Anders anyway.’

Dawn laughed and rested her head on Mitchell’s shoulder, staring at the boat still, wondering if Ellen was watching her. ‘Are you honestly telling me Anders never gets, well, too much for you?’

Mitchell laughed. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Just by being so, so… Anders.’

‘I’m one hundred and twenty one years old and in all my life I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love him. He saved me.’

‘Is that why you think he’s perfect?’

‘I know he’s not perfect, I know what he’s like, but when I met him I wished I was dead. He gave me a reason to live, to embrace life and humanity, then he saved me from being this monster, this demon.’ He smiled, thinking of Anders. ‘Anyway, I think he’s funny.’

‘I’ll remind you of that when you next have to work for him because I quit.’

‘You’re not going to quit are you?’ Mitchell asked concerned.

‘No, though I will if he reminds me he’s a god one more time. Do you know I was an atheist?’

Mitchell laughed. ‘And talking of gods, I should get you back before Hodr is on my case.’

‘Are we not waiting for your mum?’

‘I’ll text her, she can make her own way back, god knows how long she’ll be pottering around the harbour.’

Mitchell got to his feet and held out a hand for Dawn, dusting the sand off his jeans as they headed back towards the car.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks if you're still with me! I seem to write in bouts so another 2 chapters are almost ready to go. I'm getting to the home run, this story has ended up being much longer than I thought it would be, so thank you to everyone who is still reading, it means a lot, I'm enjoying writing it a lot and writing sort of keeps me sane.


	26. Perchance to Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell's having nightmares and Ellen misses her husband, oh and learns how to get drunk via Ingrid.

**Bristol 2010**

Mitchell walked down the road feeling pleased with himself, it had gone well, better than expected the meeting, the AA idea. He hadn’t wanted to get involved with Ivan again, but actually his presence had been a boon to the scheme, more than he could have imagined. However, he didn’t want any further entanglements with Ivan and Daisy, but living with George and Annie was enough to put them off them in that regard for the time being. He was heading back up the hill towards home when his phone rang in his pocket, he picked it up and saw a mobile number he didn’t recognise. Slightly apprehensively he accepted the call.

Mitchell felt the hairs on the back of his neck prick up when he heard her voice. ‘Ello, darlin’,’ Jane drawled down the line. ‘’Ow are you?’

‘Hi,’ he said stiffly, knowing it was Daisy who had passed on his number and cursing her silently.

‘Ow’s Ivan?’

‘Fine.’

‘You bin avin fun?’

‘Not really.’

‘I eard you’ve replaced Herrick. That you’re the new king of blood in Bristol.’

‘Well, you heard wrong, Herrick’s gone and there’s no more killing in Bristol.’ He was terse, annoyed with her for phoning after what had been years of silence and annoyed at himself for the way his stomach lurched at her voice and how he was already wondering what she was wearing and imagining himself naked with her.

Jane started to laugh. ‘I eard that but I thought that must be total bollocks as there’s no way a ole chapter of vampires could give up blood, especially Ivan.’ She laughed some more. ‘Did you have to get on your knees to make him agree to that? No, I bet he had you bent over Herrick’s desk, or maybe spread-eagled over a coffin. Come on, Mitchell, elp a girl out, I’m tryin to get a mental image.’

‘Nothing like that so bad luck.’

‘What a shame, ummm, I’m just lickin’ my finger, can you guess where it’s been?’

‘What do you want, Jane?’ Mitchell ground out, furious at the stirring he felt at her words.

‘I’ve been fucking this beautiful boy, blond and gorgeous. I drank him dry, but ee were so pretty I recruited him. You ave competition.’

‘Good for you.’

‘I’m covered in blood right now, ee’s gonna come back and lick it all off me. Unless you want to instead?’

‘No thanks,’ Mitchell said with disgust, stopping to lean against a wall and try to collect himself. He was starting to sweat and grow hard and he hated himself for it. ‘Sounds disgusting.’

‘Are you saying you don’t want to pour blood over me and lick it all off me? Think how good it would taste, John, think how good you’d feel when you come inside me.’ She laughed again, he knew she could sense his discomfort and arousal and cringed. ‘I’m touching myself you know, your voice always did make me orny. Go on say it, say _Jane_ in your sexy accent,’ she giggled.

‘You’re drunk, I’m going.’

‘Before you go, there’s just one more thing, other than how wet I am and not just wiv blood, but you’re not interested in that are you?’

‘What?’

‘Charlotte says she ain’t clearing up your mess when you inevitably fail. I said you won’t fail, that Ivan would talk and quite possible fuck, some sense into you.’

‘For your information Ivan has quit too.’

Now Jane really laughed, it was genuine mirth this time. He sighed as he listened to her.

‘Now that is a good one. I presume it’s only been a day. Oh, sweet John believing it. You always were a sucker for the sexy ones. Anyway, I ave to go and you know, feed and screw and all the things you don’t want anymore, but I wanted to let you know there’s always a place for you.’

‘Thanks, but no thanks.’

‘And not just in my cunt, though you know you’re always welcome there, a place for you with me, at my side, whenever you decide to ditch Hoochy poochy and come back to where you belong.’

‘I am where I belong,’ Mitchell said.

Jane let out a bark of laughter. ‘You’re denying your very nature. Eh, will you wank over me covered in blood later or Ivan fucking you over a coffin?’ She burst out laughing. ‘Or will you remember our lovely foursome over the girl from the café? You do still wank? They aven’t banned that in Bristol too these days?’

‘Jane, fuck off.’

‘I’ll take that as bye bye sweet ‘eart, love you.’ She blew a kiss and hung up, leaving him furious he hadn’t ended the call. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall trying to clear his head.

Lucy, he would ask Lucy for a drink again. A nice, clean girl, a million miles away from Jane and her twisted games and perversions. He looked at the number on his calls list, torn between blocking and saving it. Finally, thinking of Lucy, he blocked it and felt lighter, as if a weight was lifted from his chest.

~

**New Zealand, November 2014**

Mitchell was tossing and turning in his sleep, he was moaning again, Anders wasn’t sure if it was fear or arousal, Mitchell had kicked the covers off and was clearly hard, but he was calling out periodically too.

‘More, more,’ he was calling, rolling onto his stomach, then quickly turning onto his back and shouting, ‘no!’

Anders was shaking him now. ‘Wake up, John, wake up, my love,’ he whispered.

Mitchell tossed his head from side to side. Then he suddenly sat up, fangs bared, eyes black, snarling.

‘John!’ Anders shouted. Mitchell turned to him snarling and Anders screamed. His screams were then joined by Mitchell’s as Ellen burst into the room, a bible shielding her face.

‘What are you doing?’ Mitchell cried, covering himself with the bed covers. ‘Put that thing down,’ he said, wincing painfully.

‘Sorry, I was reading it and then I heard Anders screaming, but I was covering my eyes in case you were having sex again. But you’re not,’ she said, putting it on the floor.

‘I had a nightmare,’ Mitchell said, breathing hard. ‘I’m ok, you can go back to bed.’

‘You were going to attack me!’ Anders cried, alarmed.

‘I’m sorry, I was just dreaming. I’d never attack you,’ Mitchell said, pulling Anders into his arms. Anders was shaken and Mitchell covered in a sheen of sweat and felt clammy to the touch. Ellen sat on the edge of the bed and put her hand on Mitchell’s forehead.

‘You’re clammy,’ she said. ‘Do you want whisky?’

‘No,’ Mitchell said shaking his head. ‘I just want to go back to sleep.’ He turned to Anders. ‘Please, can you…’

Anders nodded and squeezed his hand. Ellen kissed Mitchell’s cheek and nodded before vanishing. Anders shook his head.

‘She could use the door, she likes being spooky, I swear. Are all ghosts slightly nuts?’

‘In a word, yes,’ Mitchell said. ‘Well they are, all that endless going on, with hardly anybody able to see you. Mum’s relatively normal.’

Anders nodded. ‘Were you dreaming about her?’

‘Who, mum?’

‘No, Jane.’

‘Yes.’

They both lay looking at the ceiling holding hands, thinking about Jane.

‘I was with her,’ Mitchell continued, describing his dream, feeling the urge to unburden himself, if only so he could be reassured it was all a dream. ‘We were feeding, then she made me chase her, she was covered in blood and I wanted to catch her and have her… but she kept running away and laughing, telling me to get you to feed me instead. Then I got her and I was so mad at her I bit her, then I woke up.’

Anders rolled over and hugged Mitchell, pulling him close. Mitchell buried his face in the crook of Anders’ neck.

‘It’s ok now,’ Anders said. ‘You don’t want blood anymore and Jane is dead.’

‘I shouldn’t dream about her, especially like that.’

‘I get the wanting to fuck her thing, honestly, but covered in blood? Yuck.’ Anders turned Mitchell face towards him and smiled. ‘Come on, listen to me.’ And then Bragi was on his lips. ‘ _Go to sleep and don’t dream, except of me, because I’m obviously hot and real. You don’t want blood.’_

Mitchell nodded and then kissed him softly. ‘Thank you, you’re amazing, Bragi is amazing, and you’re amazing.’

‘Shushh, you know Dawn thinks I’m big headed.’

Mitchell laughed. ‘If only she knew how wonderful you really are. I do tell her you’re amazing and she just scowls. Mind you, I would if I still had to work for you.’

‘Oi, I’m a wonderful boss.’

Mitchell raised his eyebrows and then yawned. ‘I need to sleep.’

‘Go to sleep, my love,’ Anders whispered as Mitchell closed his eyes. ‘Sleep without dreams.’

Anders watched Mitchell for a long time, until he was sure he was deep asleep. Mitchell lay on his back, peaceful as Anders studied every inch of his face, before snuggling into him and closing his eyes.

**~**

Mitchell yawned and wandered to the kitchen. There was a stack of boxes in the hallway, ready to start packing. They’d finally brought a house in Herne Bay with three bedrooms, a sea view, pool, games room and astronomical price tag, though it was less thanks to Ellen’s spying on the estate agents. It has taken all of Anders’ mortal powers of persuasion to get Mitchell to agree to sign the deeds as a joint owner and all his immortal powers of persuasion to get him into a legal position to do so. He was now the proud owner of a New Zealand passport and bank account, plus a replacement Irish birth certificate.

Ellen was delighted to be moving, she didn’t have a room in the flat and Mitchell was conscious of her spending increasing amounts of time away in order to give them privacy. She seemed to have relaxed a little now they’d been here a few months, reassured nobody was following them and there were indeed no vampires in the city waiting to ensnare her son. He was therefore surprised to find her crying over a pot of coffee.

‘Ma?’ he said, full of concern, his disturbing dreams featuring Jane and Ivan naked and covered in blood were pushed from his mind as his mother looked up, her face blotchy and eyes red. ‘Hey, what’s up?’ he said, wrapping his arms around her.

‘It’s our anniversary,’ she sobbed, resting her head against his chest.

‘Anniversary?’

‘Of our wedding and I’ve not seen him for so long, since I went looking for you and I miss him,’ she cried. Mitchell sighed and stroked her hair, before wincing as a mug shot off the side and smashed on the floor.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, the weight of guilt was suddenly crushing.

‘It’s not your fault, we agreed I’d go and time is different there, so he won’t be missing me. I just miss him so much sometimes.’

‘Do you want to go? Go back to dad? I’m fine now, I have Anders.’

‘I promised him I wouldn’t come back without you. So unless you’re cured I can’t.’

‘Right, but if you explain maybe?’

‘They wouldn’t let me out again, I made a deal,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Don’t ask me any more, I can’t tell you. I just wish I could see him, I used to see him on the telly in the hospital, he told me to keep going, but since we came here I’ve not seen him.’

‘We could get a new telly,’ Mitchell suggested, a little desperately.

‘He doesn’t know where I am,’ she sobbed. Mitchell was at a loss, he wasn’t used to seeing her like this, usually Ellen was the strong one. He was relieved when Anders walked in, doing his tie up. Anders stopped short when he saw Ellen.

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ Anders asked full of concern.

‘She misses my dad, it’s their wedding anniversary and she can’t speak to him on the TV over here, he doesn’t know where to find her.’

‘Aww, Ells,’ Anders said, putting his hand on her shoulder. To Anders’ slight alarm she immediately turned around and flung her arms around him, sobbing on his shoulder.

‘Do you know what it is to love someone so much you’d do anything for them? I loved him from the minute I met him, and now he looks young and handsome again and I’m old and haggard.’

‘I do, of course I do,’ Anders said, looking at Mitchell. ‘And no you’re not, you’re lovely,’ Anders reassured, patting her back. ‘I mean honestly, you’re definitely MILF territory, Olaf certainly thinks so.’

‘Anders!’ Mitchell cried, horrified.

‘Thank you, sweetheart,’ Ellen said through her tears. ‘But my John was so so handsome, oh you should have seen him. We were so in love.’

‘I know, I really do know,’ Anders said, nodding towards Mitchell.

Ellen smiled. ‘Of course you do. He had an eye for the ladies like you too, terribly jealous I’d get at times, when he flirted. But he’d pull me into bed at night and then I knew he was mine.’ Anders laughed and Mitchell’s eyebrows rose in astonished horror. ‘I remember it was freezing our wedding day, a frost over everything, it was so beautiful.’

‘I bet you were too,’ Anders said, straightening her up and wiping her tears with his thumbs.

‘John said so. I was fat really, because I was four months pregnant, but my mother made a good job of my dress so it wasn’t too obvious.’

‘Oh Christ,’ Mitchell muttered, filling the kettle.

‘I bet you were beautiful when you were pregnant, and I bet your John thought so too.’

She smiled now, her tears slowly stopping. ‘He said the most lovely things, he was a romantic, gift of the gab too, such a charmer. Like you in a way.’

‘Only in a way? Sounds just like me,’ Anders laughed, taking her to sit down.

‘He could be a bit crude too,’ Ellen agreed. ‘But only in private, you couldn’t talk like you do in those days.’

Anders grinned. ‘I don’t think that’s a compliment,’ Mitchell said, rolling his eyes. ‘Look, why don’t you come to work with Anders today, you shouldn’t be on your own.’

‘I’d be in the way,’ Ellen sniffed.

‘No you wouldn’t be,’ Anders said. ‘I like having you around.’

‘But it freaks Dawn out because she can’t see me, no, I can’t. She’s a sweet girl, she doesn’t deserve it.’

‘Well come to work with me then,’ Mitchell said.

‘I’ll be in the way even more,’ she said, dissolving into tears again. Anders and Mitchell looked at each other. ‘Just like I’m in the way here, I’m not where I belong, I’m not with my John.’

‘You’re not in the way,’ Anders said before Mitchell could answer. Mitchell looked at him as he took Ellen in his arms again and gave him a small, grateful smile. He remembered how Anders had found Ellen’s presence an awkward encumbrance at first, now he thought Anders would be more upset than him if she were to take her door. It made him feel more guilty about the dreams of blood that haunted him each night, and the fact that Anders’ only place in them was having his throat gorged on while Mitchell fucked Jane.

~

It was evening when Mitchell next saw his mother, Anders had taken her to Ingrid who’d happily listened to every detail about her wedding day and sympathised readily and plentifully (and with much wine) over Ellen’s lost husband. Mitchell now watched as Ingrid, who had been drinking since early afternoon sat laughing too much as Ellen whispered to her. He groaned when he saw his mother’s hand clamped to Ingrid’s shoulder, supernaturally imbibing her drunken state, though as Anders resentfully pointed out without any of the unpleasant after effects.

‘And then we had to be sooo quiet,’ Ellen giggled to Ingrid.

‘So, just so I get the right mental image here, your John looked like Mitchell?’

‘Very alike, but with blue eyes, otherwise the spitting image.’

‘And he was in a field, stripped to the waist, cutting grass.’

‘Yes, but he was brown from the sun, not all pale like young John.’

‘But as handsome?’ Ingrid said with a faraway look in her eyes.

‘Yes, but more muscular and with a twinkle in his eye,’ Ellen said with a wink.

Ingrid grinned. ‘Yeah, I’d have spied on him from the brewery too. What did he do when he caught you?’

‘Well, he took me over the barrel…’

Mitchell coughed loudly. ‘Good evening?’ he said, frowning at the empty wine bottles on the table and lifting his mother’s hand from Ingrid’s shoulder. Ellen snatched her hand back and put it on Ingrid’s arm instead, then they both burst out laughing.

‘Evidently it was,’ Mitchell said, raising his eyebrows.

‘Hello,’ Ingrid said. ‘Your mum’s been telling me all about your dad, it’s so romantic.’

‘Lovely. Anders back?’

‘Yeah, but he said we were drunken lushes and went to your room saying something about catching up on porn before you got home.’

‘Jesus, I feel like I’m the only person with any propriety around here anymore,’ Mitchell said, more to himself than anyone else, shaking his head and heading to their bedroom as Ingrid burst out laughing again at something Ellen said.

‘Hey,’ Mitchell said to Anders, who was holding his iPad and frowning.

‘Oh thank god,’ Anders said. ‘Those two are wasted.’

‘Yeah, I can see. Still at least mum’s smiling, I’ve been worried about her.’

‘Me too.’

Mitchell didn’t add that he’d been torn between worrying about his mum and unwanted mental images of Jane intruding at random and increasingly frequent intervals, always blood-soaked and tempting. He’d thought of confiding in Anders how the casualty of a road accident lying in intensive care had suddenly taken on Jane’s appearance and how close he’d been to bending down and tearing into her pale throat, despite Bragi’s words that very morning.   

‘She’s ok now though it seems,’ Mitchell said, looking at Anders with a hungry eye, a plan to exorcise his demons forming. ‘And very distracted.’

‘So she is,’ Anders said, grinning and palming his crotch.

Mitchell scowled at the movement. ‘Hand,’ he snapped, he could feel the demon in him clawing to get out. He let his eyes bleed black as Anders put his iPad down and smirked provocatively.

‘You seem pretty riled up.’

‘Don’t talk,’ Mitchell said, pulling his t-shirt off. ‘Undress and kneel on the bed with your hands behind your back.’

‘Oh, commanding, I like it.’

Mitchell watched as he complied, slowly peeling his own jeans and underwear off, before taking a long length of soft rope out of the bottom drawer. Finally he knelt behind Anders, running his fingers up his sides. ‘Do you trust me,’ he whispered in Anders’ ear.

‘With my life,’ came the sincere reply. Mitchell rested his forehead on Anders’ shoulder momentarily, breathing him in, a rush of love and gratitude washing over him.

‘You know what to say if you need to stop. I’m going to make it good for you, baby,’ he whispered. ‘You know that, I always make it good for you,’ he growled, pushing Anders forward as he grabbed his wrists and began to bind them with rope, practiced fingers making quick work of the web of knots he wove around Anders’ arms and torso.

~

Mitchell lay awake long after Anders that night. He could hear his mother moving around the living room, but he didn’t go to join her, he had frightened Anders tonight and wanted to stay with him, to comfort him. He kissed Anders’ sleeping form again, gently stroking over the puncture wound on his shoulder, cringing at his lack of control. Anders liked it rough, liked being dominated and he liked the thrill of being fucked by a demon with black eyes and sharp fangs. He didn’t like blood though and though he’d barely felt it at the time, not between the knots and snarls and the rough, relentless pounding, he’d been close to tears afterwards and Mitchell had been mortified.

‘I love you,’ Mitchell whispered again to the sleeping man in his arms. ‘I love you so much, but I’m scared. She’s coming for me, somehow from beyond the fucking grave, she’s coming for me. Ma said we go on, beyond the door, and she’s found a way into my head and she’s there, all the time and not even Bragi can make her go away.’

A tear fell down Mitchell’s cheek and landed on Anders’ chest. Anders stirred and flung out an arm, grabbing Mitchell to him.

‘I’m sorry,’ Mitchell said again.

‘What? Hmm,’ Anders grunted sleepily. ‘It was a good fuck, forget it,’ he said, realising what Mitchell had said. ‘Love you.’

With that Anders rolled over, spooning in Mitchell’s arms. Mitchell held him, hand over his heartbeat. Their life had been good since moving here, better than he could ever have dreamed of. Anders seemed so happy, seemed to have finally shaken off the insecurities and believed Mitchell loved him. He got on well with Anders’ family, who were slowly accepting him and his mother was happy. But today his mother was weeping over her lost husband, he was accidently attacking his lover and now not only his dreams, but his waking hours were haunted by a woman he thought he’d left forever in London.

Or maybe it wasn’t Jane. Maybe it was simply the bloodlust. What had Carl said? It always finds you. Perhaps Jane wasn’t haunting him from wherever she now was, perhaps it was all his own demons and her beautiful, blood soaked form was simply his own deep dark desires.

~

**Auckland City Hospital**

‘Were you out drinking last night?’ Michele snapped as Mitchell knocked a file off the table as he passed her. She shook her head as he scrabbled to pick it up, stuffing loose papers back inside it.

‘No,’ he said. ‘Sorry, I’m just tired.’

‘You look pale, even paler than normal. I thought you didn’t get sick?’

‘I don’t,’ Mitchell said quickly. ‘I’m just tired.’

‘Or weak?’ she said, arching an eyebrow. Mitchell looked up and for a moment saw a flash of Jane’s laughter in her face, those malevolently smiling brown eyes mocking him. He shook his head and only Michele’s icy blue eyes were looking at him. ‘Just pull yourself together, I know Anders must be hard to stomach, but try to do your job properly, it can’t be that hard.’

‘You know, you protest way too much about Anders. If it’s any comfort, he probably still fancies you.’

‘I thought he was gay these days.’

‘I think we both know he swings both ways,’ Mitchell said, smirking. ‘But you’re probably on the list - of women he’d like to have a threesome with. Not the top of the list, but on the list.’

Michele looked at Mitchell as he stood up and smiled at her. ‘Well, he’ll have to keep dreaming, won’t he? I am not the sort of girl who goes on the list.’

‘And you love Mike of course,’ Mitchell added.

‘Of course.’

‘You know you probably don’t want to be at the top of the list. Didn’t end well for the last person who was there.’

‘Let me guess, they passed out in shock when they saw your tiny cock?’

Mitchell laughed. ‘Not quite, look I have to go and take Mrs Swan to X-ray, try not to scare anyone to death while I’m gone.’

With that Mitchell walked off, smirking to himself as he compared Michele most unfavourably to Jane in his mind’s eye all the time he was pushing Mrs Swan’s trolley and listening to her tell him about her dog, a Jack Russell called Jonah, after the rugby player. It wasn’t until he was in the canteen for lunch, picking at a tuna sandwich, that he even realised he’s been thinking about Jane all morning. He pushed his sandwich away and pulled his phone out, swiping through his pictures, looking at Anders’ smiling, pulling faces, even naked.

‘She’s dead, so is the bloodlust, I love Anders,’ he muttered to himself over and over as if it was a mantra.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I write in bouts! Thanks to still reading and putting up with the erratic updates, I write when I'm stressed, so bad week equals 3 chapters (next tomorrow hopefully). Thanks to Lancette for everything.


	27. The Unquiet Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to the 1920s and vampire parties. Fast forward and Mitchell is haunted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Lancette for all her help.

**London, 1922**

Mitchell followed Herrick as they left the cab that had pulled up a few feet from the grand Georgian town house in Kensington, Herrick looked at him and smiled, straightening Mitchell’s bowtie and brushing imaginary lint from his shoulder. It was a warm June evening and there was a full moon overhead.

‘Now, remember what I said, don’t speak to Charlotte until you’re spoken to, address her as my lady, and don’t stare at her. It’s a great honour to be invited, not only will you meet Charlotte Campbell, but there’s other old ones.’

‘Who else?’ Mitchell asked, he was nervous, but excited, it felt as if he was finally moving up in the vampire world and he felt flattered that he alone was joining Herrick at this party.

‘Well, there’s Hetty, she’s the young girl, well, the young girl who’s a few hundred years old. My maker, very powerful of course. And Ivan is in town so you’ll probably see him, he’s an interesting fellow, somewhat of a traveller, but good company. And Charlotte’s friend, Jane, she’s batshit crazy though.’

‘I thought you said the old ones were clever, that it was the crazy ones who get picked off.’

‘Oh it is, Jane’s clever and ruthless, she’s just rumoured to have a capacity for blood and sex that exceeds most people’s, even yours.’

Mitchell smirked, he doubted that.

‘But you won’t talk to her anyway, she’s quite fussy about who she associates with and totally out of your league. Men always get ideas when they see her.’

‘Right,’ Mitchell said, as they reached the front door and Herrick greeted the servant before they were admitted inside.

Mitchell was somewhat dazzled by the interior, everything was decorated in the latest fashion, there were trays of drinks and canapes, and in every room a decanter and glasses of blood. He didn’t think he’d ever been anywhere with so many people where each and every one was a vampire. The servants, the musicians, the guests. He grinned as a passing footman offered him a glass of blood.

The men were all in white tie and the women were dressed extravagantly. He saw Hetty at once, it wasn’t difficult to pick her out, with her appearance of a young girl, albeit one in a very expensive dress.

‘Herrick!’ Hetty called. ‘There you are, I was wondering where you’d got to, and this is Mitchell I suppose. Nice to meet you, we’ve heard the rumours.’

She looked him up and down appraisingly. ‘Nice to meet you too,’ he said, unsure whether to hold out his hand.

‘Is Charlotte here yet?’ Herrick asked. He grinned, but Mitchell sensed his nervousness, Charlotte Campbell was revered and feared, the oldest of old ones.

‘Yeah, she’s by the piano with Ivan. Harry couldn’t make it,’ Hetty added with a sigh.

‘Well, I daresay we’ll live without his brooding,’ Herrick said, looking pleased and pulling a face at Mitchell.

‘You missed the dog fight though, it was a crap one, stupid thing got stabbed dinnit?’

‘Really?’ Herrick said with disappointment. ‘You haven’t got any more?’

‘Nah, I’m going to speak to Ivan about his organisational skills. Ah, here we are,’ she said, having led them to the large drawing room. Mitchell looked around, there was a huge crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling and a man at a grand piano. They approached a severe looking woman with black hair sitting with a dark, good looking man on green velvet chairs. The man was smoking and held a glass of brandy. The woman wore a long black dress with intricate beading around the neck and long black gloves. Her skin was pale but for her mouth and her features a little too severe to be considered beautiful but she was not unattractive, with a blunt fringe finishing half way down her forehead and her hair pulled up in a tight bun, decorated with black beads and feathers.

‘My lady, William Herrick and John Mitchell,’ Hetty said, smiling at Charlotte and clicking her fingers for a drink. A footman appeared with a glass and poured her some brandy. ‘Keep going, keep going, you need more than that at my age,’ Hetty urged until her glass was full enough for her satisfaction. ‘Boys, this is Ivan, you know Herrick of course,’ Mitchell noticed a false smile pass between the two men. Mitchell offered a hand to Ivan who shook it warmly.

‘Nice to meet you,’ Ivan said, holding his gaze. ‘We’ve heard a lot about you. I’m looking forward to finding out if it’s all true.’ He had a mischievous look in his eye that made Mitchell wonder what exactly he’d heard and suspect his views on such matters were quite different to Herrick’s.

‘And this,’ Hetty continued. ‘Is Charlotte, who don’t really need an introduction.’

‘It’s wonderful to meet you again,’ Herrick said obsequiously.

Charlotte looked up, but stayed seated. ‘So this is the recruit I’ve heard about. Looks quite respectable. Enjoying this life?’ she asked, ignoring Herrick and addressing Mitchell.

‘Yes, my lady,’ Mitchell said. She unnerved him and he really wanted a cigarette. As if reading his mind Ivan offered one and then held out a light. Mitchell accepted gratefully.

‘Well, you sound as if you have promise. Well done, Herrick, good recruits are thin on the ground. You missed the dog fight.’

‘I’m so disappointed, but Hetty tells me you picked a weakling, Ivan.’

‘The werewolf was strong enough, but the man was quite exceptional. I recruited him in fact, he’s upstairs now,’ Ivan picked up his pocket watched. ‘I expect him to come round in about an hour or so.’ Herrick laughed along with the others, showing all his white teeth.

A serving girl approached and cleared Charlotte’s empty glass and offered fresh glasses of blood to the group, all took a glass except for Hetty who was content with her brandy.

‘Can we have a song,’ Charlotte called out over the quiet chatter of the room. The pianist had been playing gentle, melancholic jazz. ‘I can’t stand this modern rubbish. Do sit down gentlemen,’ she said, gesturing to the chairs that a footman had subtly manoeuvred beside hers. Herrick looked quite satisfied at this offer and tried to catch Mitchell’s eye.

But Mitchell’s eye had been caught by someone new and he didn’t even notice Herrick’s smug satisfaction. A woman had approached Charlotte, she was small, with dark curls cut into a bob, she wore a bright red dress covered in beads, with lots of black necklaces and a beaded red band in her hair. Her gloves were black with red beading decorating the sleeves, but her magnificent clothes barely caught his notice because her face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Every feature was perfectly in proportion, her smile dazzled and her big dark eyes danced with life. He wanted to reach out and touch her and was unaware his mouth was hanging open or that he’d forgotten to tap the ash off his cigarette.

Hetty smirked and held an ashtray under Mitchell’s hand before the ash fell onto the carpet. Mitchell nodded his thanks and tried to pull himself together.

‘Will you sing?’ Charlotte asked the woman.

‘Do I ave to?’ she replied sulkily, pouting a little. Mitchell continued to gaze at her as her eyes passed over the group and stopped on him. ‘Oo’s this?’ she said bluntly to Herrick, gesturing at Mitchell.

‘This is John Mitchell,’ Herrick said. ‘Mitchell, _this_ is Jane.’

Jane stood very close to Mitchell, he could smell her perfume and see a sprinkling of faint freckles on her chest, under the many necklaces. He looked at her and boldly met her gaze, deciding that a woman like this would appreciate confidence. Jane’s lips parted a little and she put her finger out towards Mitchell, touching his lips. Mitchell held his breath, it definitely wasn’t what he expected.

‘I’ll sing,’ she said suddenly, withdrawing her finger and walking to the piano. Charlotte frowned at Mitchell almost imperceptibly.

‘Mouth like a sewer, but she sings beautifully,’ Charlotte said to Ivan, who was smirking at Mitchell’s stunned reaction as Jane began to sing. Her voice carried over the room, strong and full of emotion. Mitchell was entranced.

 _‘Cold blows the wind to my true love,_  
_And gently drops the rain._  
_I've never had but one true love,_  
_And in green-wood he lies slain._  
  
_I'll do as much for my true love,_  
_As any young girl may,_  
_I'll sit and mourn all on his grave,_  
_For twelve months and a day._  
  
_And when twelve months and a day was passed,_  
_The ghost did rise and speak,_  
_"why sittest thou all on my grave_  
_And will no let me sleep?"_  
  
_"Tis I Tis I thine own true love,_  
_Who sit upon your grave,_  
_For I crave one kiss from your sweet lips,_  
_And that is all I seek_  
  
_"My breast is cold as clay,_  
_My breath is earthly strong,_  
_And if you kiss my cold clay lips,_  
_You days will not be long."_  
  
_"How oft on yonder grave, sweetheart,_  
_Where we were want to walk,_  
_The fairest flower that e'er I saw_  
_Has withered to a stalk."_  
  
_"When will we meet again, sweetheart,_  
_When will we meet again?"_  
_"When the autumn leaves that fall from the trees_  
_Are green and spring up again."_

The room was silent when she finished, you could have heard a pin drop. She bowed her head and Ivan stood, beginning a loud applause. When Jane looked up again she looked straight at Mitchell, who was still utterly transfixed.

Herrick leaned over to whisper in his ear. ‘She’s out of your league, don’t even think about it, sunshine, she’s an Old One.’ Mitchell nodded, his heart sinking. ‘With quite a reputation and you’ve been a vampire five minutes.’

‘Darling, that was beautiful,’ Ivan said, giving Jane a kiss as she approached them.

‘Marvellous,’ Herrick agreed.

‘Miserable choice of song,’ Charlotte said. ‘But beautifully sung.’

‘It’s abaht ow not even death can separate you from your true love,’ Jane said. ‘Did you like it, John Mitchell?’ she asked, a playful smile on her lips.

‘Yes, you sing beautifully, as well as even my mother did.’

‘Well, I’ll take that as quite a compliment.’ She came and stood very close to him and offered him her hand. ‘There’s dancing through there, come and dance with me.’

‘You told me you weren’t in the mood for dancing,’ Ivan said, teasing her, finding the whole scene amusing, especially Mitchell and Herrick’s respective delighted and disgusted astonishment.

‘That was before John Mitchell arrived. Where did you come from?’

‘Bristol,’ Mitchell stammered.

‘Bristol? One of Herrick’s? And do you like blood?’

‘Yes.’

‘And do you like,’ she paused, her tongue licking her top lip suggestively. ‘Pleasure?’

‘Yes,’ Mitchell replied, now worrying he was going to be hard when he stood up. Jane smiled at his answer, glanced at his lap as if reading his mind and taking his hand led him off to the dance floor.

‘And there he goes,’ Ivan said, amused. ‘I expect you’ll get him back in a year or two. What? She can offer him unlimited blood and sex, you can’t compete, old chap.’ He was enjoying Herrick’s annoyance at the immediate favour Mitchell had found with Charlotte’s closest and indeed, only, confidant.

‘I knew she’d do something like that,’ Hetty said wisely. ‘Soon as I saw him, handsome bugger isn’t he?’ she said to Ivan.

‘Very,’ Ivan agreed a hungry glint in his eye.

‘Urg,’ Charlotte made a noise of disgust before calling. ‘Play, more music, anything to distract me.’

‘Hear, hear,’ Herrick said, taking a large sip from the glass in his hand, working hard to disguise his irritation.

~

A week later Mitchell was lying in Jane’s bedroom in the house in Highgate when Herrick called. Her maid answered and Mitchell smiled as he heard Herrick being shown into the sitting room to wait whilst Jane sat astride him, naked and laughing. She ran a finger down his chest.

‘Your keeper wants you back,’ she teased.

‘I want to stay here with you,’ he said, leaning up and pulling her into a kiss and cupping her breast, playing with it softly just as he’d discovered she loved.

‘And I’ve fixed that,’ she said, pushing him back, raking her fingernails through his chest hair. ‘Uhh, this chest,’ she moaned, combing through his chest hair then raking her teeth over it. ‘I’m kidnapping you. I left a note for him.’

‘A note?’

‘Yes. A note. _Dear Herrick, Mitchell’s busy with me for a few months, Best wishes, Jane_. Now, stop being boring,’ she said, cupping his face with her hand. ‘All you ave to do is think abaht what you most desire and tell me, then I make it appen.’ She began to kiss his chest, little moans escaping as she did.

Mitchell grinned. She was beyond his wildest dreams. The party had ended in the early hours of the morning, when he had been on a chair, stripped to his waist, as she straddled him and poured a decanter of blood down his throat. The first night with her had been stilted though, she’d intimidated him so much he was nervous and came too fast. He was sure he’d blown it. But he hadn’t.

The following evening Jane had taken him to a hotel around the corner when she picked up a man and took him to bed to feed from as Mitchell watched, hidden until he was beckoned. In his bloodlust Mitchell had lost his inhibitions and they’d fucked furiously, he had never known anything like it and that was just the beginning.

‘I desire you,’ Mitchell whispered, pulling her down, rolling her over and thrusting inside her, gasping as she bit down on his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. He groaned as he felt his blood flow into her warm mouth, before his eyes bled black and with a cry he let his fangs sink into her flesh too and his mouth filled with her hot blood, his entire being overtaken with pleasure.

~

**December 2014, Auckland**

Mitchell held Anders as he fucked him, he was warm and tight and Mitchell wanted him, more than anything. Mitchell leaned forward to kiss him again, god he was beautiful lying underneath him, fucked out, messy hair and lips slightly swollen from kissing. Anders was panting, hoisting his knees up more so Mitchell could go deeper. Anders grinned as he watched his lover’s eyes turn black and then let out a deep, guttural moan as Mitchell thrust harder, deeper.

‘That’s it,’ Anders moaned. ‘Fuck me, fuck me, god, yes.’ He wrapped his arms tight around Mitchell, short nails scratching down his back, throwing his head back and moaning loudly as Mitchell hit the spot.

It happened fast, Mitchell’s head momentarily reared back and then with a lifetime’s practiced ease he sunk his fangs deep into Anders’ neck, before letting his lips seal over the puncture wounds as blood flowed into his mouth. Anders didn’t even scream at first, not until he felt the strange hot gush of blood. Then it seemed to happen in slow motion. Mitchell pulling off with an animalistic roar, then the screaming. His screams, Mitchell’s, Ellen’s. He remembered clutching his neck as Mitchell spat and retched on all fours beside him, crying that his blood was bad. He remembered Ellen pressing a towel to his neck to stem the bleeding, then disappearing, returning with Michele on her heels. He had vague memories of Mitchell screaming like an animal, curled up on the floor in agony as Michele wielded her stick, Yggdrasil, that he had fetched from Norway, before she placed her hand on his neck and the pain stopped and then, looking around at the blood soaked bed he passed out.

Mitchell was with him when he woke up, his face red and blotchy, his eyes swollen with tears. ‘I’m sorry,’ was all he could say over and over again, sobbing hopelessly. Anders couldn’t face it and went back to sleep, too tired and weak to think about how the man he loved had attacked him. When he next woke Mitchell was asleep beside him and Ellen was sat at his side, the bed was clean and he was wearing a t-shirt.

‘What time is it?’ he groaned.

‘You’ve been asleep all day, and last night,’ Ellen said softly.

‘What happened?’ he said, the images returning as Ellen passed him a glass of water and he gingerly sat up.

‘John… John bit you,’ she said, her eye filling with tears as she spoke. ‘He’s so sorry, he’s beside himself.’

Anders nodded. Mitchell hadn’t just bitten him, he’d been about to tear his throat out, but something had stopped him.

‘He didn’t like my blood,’ Anders said, touching his neck.

‘It made him sick,’ Ellen said. ‘Because you’re a god, a vessel of Bragi, it’s in your blood, he can’t drink it any more than he can drink holy water.’

‘But he’s drawn blood before,’ he added.

‘A scratch… but that wasn’t a scratch. I must say, I’ve changed my opinion of Michele, she saved you, if she hadn’t … I don’t know what would have happened.’

‘How did she get here?’

‘I fetched her.’

‘Oh great, so Mike knows,’ Anders groaned.

‘Yes, he’s not very happy, but I can’t blame him, he’s worried about you. So am I.’ the tears that had been threatening to fall now rolled down her cheeks and she looked broken, dark circles under her eyes and pale.

‘Is John ok?’ Anders asked, putting his hand on Mitchell’s arm.

‘Physically, yes,’ Ellen said. ‘But he’s devastated. Please, he loves you, please know he loves you so much.’

‘I know,’ Anders said. ‘Look, it was just bad luck, shall I wake him up?’

Ellen nodded, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. Anders gently shook Mitchell’s shoulder, he sat up straight away.

‘Anders, oh god, I’m sorry,’ Mitchell began. Anders placed a finger on his lips and shushed him.

‘Listen, it was just an accident, we’ve had sex hundreds and hundreds of times and that’s never happened.’

‘I’m a monster, you see now,’ Mitchell said, his voice hollow.

‘I see my boyfriend, hey I’m fine,’ Anders said trying to convince himself more than anyone else, convince himself he wasn’t shaking and wasn’t still a little light headed from blood loss. ‘We’ll use Bragi before we shag from now on,’ he promised, pulling Mitchell close. Mitchell flung his arms around Anders, sobbing again. Ellen began to wail too as Anders extended an arm to draw her to him. Anders winced, it had been a horrible, terrifying accident, but he couldn’t cope with this, the crying, the recriminations and most of all he couldn’t face the possibility it had been something more than momentary madness.

~

Mike’s visit wasn’t wholly unexpected, but Anders could have done without it on his first day back at work. His brother stood in the doorway holding two cups of take away coffee and a bag of donuts.

‘Dawn, can you toddle off for a bit?’ Anders said.

‘I know about your god chats now,’ she retorted.

‘This is private, off you trot,’ Anders said, smiling at her. She shook her head and obeyed nonetheless.

‘I’ll take an early lunch then,’ she said, grabbing her bag. Anders watched her leave and Mike sat down.

‘There you go, eat that, Michele said you need to keep your blood sugar levels up.’

‘I’m touched by her concern,’ Anders said, opening the bag.

‘How you doing?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Things at home ok?’

‘What do you think? Christ, I wish everyone would just forget it and go back to normal.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘John is devastated, so you better not say a fucking word and if Michele gives him a hard time I’ll, well, I’ll get him to do the same to her. He tried to sleep on the sofa and when I wouldn’t let him he insisted his mum watches over us all night. I now have to sleep in a haunted bedroom. And she jumps up waving a bloody crucifix around if he so much as stirs in his sleep.’

‘That sounds like a sensible plan to me.’

‘It’s a stupid plan,’ Anders said, folding his arms. ‘And he won’t have sex with me.’

‘Good,’ Mike said, voice rising. ‘Last time he nearly killed you!’

‘How many times do you think we’ve had sex? Way more than you can imagine and nothing has ever happened. It won’t happen again, he just got carried away. He won’t even give me a blow job.’

‘Anders! That really isn’t top of my list of worries right now.’

‘Well it’s top of mine.’

‘I’m worried sick about you. I’ve kept my word, so has Michele, we won’t tell anyone, but you have to help me out here.’

‘How?’

‘Take some steps to make him safer.’

‘Look, believe me, Ellen is taking every step possible. I’m using Bragi about four times a day, there’s a sex ban that would make the Pope proud and Ellen’s banned alcohol.’

‘All sensible ideas, you’re lucky to have her around,’ Mike said.

‘They’re bloody awful ideas. I knew you’d like it though,’ he added.

‘Michele thinks he should stop working at the hospital, she thinks the risk is too high.’

‘Good idea, not for that reason mind you, he’s worked in hospitals for years and never harmed a fly, everyone loves him, but too many old and sick people dying.’

‘What?’

Anders got up and went to the fridge, pulling out two beers. ‘This requires something stronger than coffee,’ he said, pushing one towards Mike. ‘I am worried that some sick person, or old person,’ Anders said the words with disgust. ‘Will pop their clogs when John’s around and he’ll follow them through their door. He can stop with that bloody book thing too.’

‘What book thing?’

‘He delivers library books to old dears who can’t get out the house. God, the librarians love him, they’re so jealous of me.’ Anders sighed, shaking his head.

‘I didn’t know he did that,’ Mike said thoughtfully.

‘He’s a really great guy, like I keep telling you. Look, Ellen says it’s like a demonic possession, that the real man is good and kind and gentle, but this thing inside him… it compels him to do stuff. You get that don’t you? I mean Ullr makes you a dick at times.’

‘No it doesn’t.’

‘What about when you gamble? And play in pool tournaments?’

‘Ok,’ Mike conceded. ‘So, you agree he shouldn’t work at the hospital?’

‘Yes, but only so he doesn’t walk through some door where I can’t follow.’ Anders spun on his chair and turned away from Mike, tears unexpectedly pricking his eyes.

‘That’s worse than him killing someone, than him killing you?’

‘Yes, because at least then we’d be together,’ Anders said, pressing the heels of his hand into his eyes. Taking a deep breath he turned around. ‘I don’t think you really understand what he means to me. He’s my soulmate, Mike, he gets me. All this Idunn crap, that is such shit as the person I’m destined to be with, that I should be with, who is part of me, is John.’

Mike looked long and hard at his brother, took a sip of his beer and then leaned forward a little.

‘If it’s like a possession, is there a way to unpossess him? A way to cure him?’

‘None that anyone knows of. Ellen’s asked Ingrid and Olaf, they don’t know.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘Me too. Look, if John resigns from the hospital will you give him a job in the bar? He won’t work for me and he has to do something, there’s no danger there, nobody is going to die in a bar.’

‘There’s the danger to everyone else,’ Mike said.

‘Oh come on, Mike! You know that he’s safe! Anyway, you’d be there to keep an eye on him, and the bitch with the stick.’

‘That bitch saved your life.’

‘And doesn’t she like to remind me? God, I hope she’s good in bed, because I don’t know how you stand being that pussy whipped.’

Mike shrugged. ‘I think you wind her up.’

‘It’s sexual frustration because she can’t have me, or John.’

‘You know this isn’t the best way to get me to give your boyfriend a job?’

‘Look, don’t be a dick about it, will you help him? I’ll send Ellen to spook out anyone who won’t leave after last orders if you do, actually she grew up in a pub, she’d be really helpful, she used to pour beer and sing apparently.’

‘Oh, well I’ll employ her too then,’ Mike said, rolling his eyes, which Anders missed as he took a swig of beer.

‘She’d love that, oh Mike, you are a star.’

‘Anders! I’m kidding! I mean that was in the nineteenth century, oh and there’s the small matter of her being a bloody ghost! Christ, a ghost cannot be a barmaid, for god’s sake!’

‘Okay, it was just an idea.’

‘But okay to Mitchell. He’s a hard worker from what Michele says and girls seem to like him.’

‘Oh Mike, you are my favourite brother!’ Anders said, jumping up and high fiving him.

‘Well, that makes a change.’

‘He’ll be thrilled,’ Anders said, grabbing his jacket.

‘Yeah, well, we’ll see about that. Where are you going?’

‘To tell John.’

‘Won’t Dawn be pissed off you’ve disappeared?’

‘I’ll just tell her it was a client, she can handle everything,’ he shrugged. ‘Cheers, Mike,’ he called over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

~

Anders was smiling as he walked through the door, it felt good to be the bearer of good news. ‘John!’ he called. ‘John, I have great news.’

He walked into the living room and stopped dead. Mitchell was on the floor in front of the TV, which had nothing but white noise on the screen, slapping it, his face creased in anger and distress.

‘You little fucker,’ he was muttering. ‘I know you’re there, I can feel you, you little devil, I know you’re there!’ He let out a cry of frustration and sucked the side of his hand where he’d hit it on the side of the TV.

‘John?’ Anders said, puzzled, crouching next to him. ‘What are you doing?’

‘She’s coming for me,’ Mitchell said, whipping his head around to look at Anders, his hair wild and eye wide and reddened.

‘Who?’

‘Jane! She’s possessing me, that’s why I attacked you, she’s coming for me, spying on me and she’s trying to drag me back, she’s making me want blood. God, some days I want it so much I can barely talk and I see her, everywhere.’

Anders put his hand on Mitchell’s shoulder gently. ‘She’s dead, my love,’ he said. ‘She turned to dust, she’s gone.’

‘Mum said vampires pass over,’ Mitchell replied. ‘She’s sending messages from the other side, this has happened to me before.’

‘What?’ Anders said, truly puzzled now. He tried to take Mitchell’s hand, but Mitchell grabbed a note off the coffee table, it was a sheet off a spiral bound note pad. He passed it to Anders, who read it, confused.

‘John…’ he began. ‘What is this? It’s like a poem. And this is your mum’s handwriting.’

‘Read it, read it to me so I know I’m not imagining it,’ Mitchell said. Anders looked at him, the worry creased across his face and as they knelt on the living room floor, facing each other knees touching Anders read.

‘How oft on yonder grave, sweetheart, where we were want to walk, the fairest flower that e'er I saw has withered to a stalk. When will we meet again, sweetheart, when will we meet again? When the autumn leaves that fall from the trees are green and spring up again.’ He paused. ‘What does it mean?’

‘It’s a song, an old song.’ He bit his lip before continuing. ‘When I first met Jane we were at a party, she sang, she was a really good singer. That was the song she sang.’

‘Are you sure? I mean it was a long time ago,’ Anders said.

‘Yes, she looked at me the whole time she was singing, I was transfixed. Can you imagine? I was the only man in the room she was looking at and that’s what she sang, the first time I saw her?’

‘I guess you were paying attention,’ Anders said uncomfortably.

‘Yes, and she reminded me of it, she used to put it in letters to me, when will we meet again sweetheart?’

‘It’s just a saying.’

‘No, she knew I remembered. Do you know what she did that night?’

‘I’m guessing it was along the lines of screwing and drinking blood?’

‘She said I was hers now. _You’re mine_ , she said. And she’s never let me go and she’s come again, that’s her warning to me. She’s haunting me, Anders,’ he said, his voice breaking. Anders sighed, not knowing what to think, he leaned forward and took Mitchell in his arms, careful to position them so Mitchell’s face wasn’t buried in his neck. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jane's song is an old folk song called The Unquiet Grave, it recently featured in Penny Dreadful in the last episode of series 2, though I love that version it's only the last 3 verses, so you can listen to the complete version here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pB0g59T8Pg0 and read more about the song's origin and meaning here if you're interested. https://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2013/may/13/poem-of-the-week-the-unquiet-grave 
> 
> I don't have anymore chapters ready to post so this will be the last for now after 3 in 3 days! But I hope it won't be long before the next as I've already started it. Thanks for sticking with the story and putting up with the erratic updates.


	28. Love Conquers All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders is worried, will the blood lust get the better of Mitchell? Will he end up a victim? Will Mike get off his case and worst of all, will he ever have sex again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette x

Ellen poured out a generous measure of whisky into both glasses and pushed them across the table to Anders and Mitchell. She watched, biting her lip, as Mitchell shakily brought the glass to his mouth.

‘Drink all of it,’ she said softly, taking his free hand again. ‘Now listen - again. Nobody is haunting you, Jane is gone, she was a vampire and vampires _cannot_ become ghosts, _cannot_ communicate the way we can. She’s not sending you messages, I wrote that, it’s in my handwriting. It’s an old folk song, I was going to sing it at Olaf and Ingrid’s party later so I wrote out all the words and I didn’t tear off the last page. Look, here’s the others.’

She pushed two crumpled pieces of note paper towards him, Anders picked them up and flattened them out.

‘See,’ Anders said triumphantly.

Mitchell nodded. He was pale, his face blotchy and eyes swollen, Anders thought he looked thinner too.

‘What about the dreams? And I attacked you.’

Ellen and Anders looked at each other. ‘It’s the bloodlust,’ Anders said. ‘That’s all, it got the better of you for like, ten seconds, but that’s why you’re with me, I’m a god, so I’m all good.’

‘I’m with you because I love _you_ ,’ Mitchell said quietly.

‘It’s not Jane,’ Ellen repeated. ‘If it was I’d stop her, but it’s not. Vampires can’t do what ghosts can, you know this.’ Mitchell nodded.

‘Look, I’m going to lie down, I’m tired.’ Mitchell said, rubbing his eyes.

‘Alright,’ Anders said, concerned, especially as Mitchell stood up and then grabbed the back of the chair for support. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Just light headed, it’s the whisky,’ he said.

Anders and Ellen watched with strained faces as he walked to the bedroom. When they heard the door close Anders let out a long breath.

‘What’s wrong with him?’ Anders asked.

‘He’s a vampire,’ Ellen said, her eyes sadder than he’d ever seen them.

‘But Bragi,’ Anders said.

‘Anders, did Bragi always work?’ Ellen said, looking at him hard. ‘Were you able to chat him up using Bragi?’

‘No,’ Anders admitted.

‘So why do you think Bragi works now?’

‘My powers are stronger,’ Anders said.

‘Or maybe he just wants it to work, wants it to be his cure. I don’t know, who can really say? Mr Winston said a young lady in the sixties he went for long periods without blood,  that what he really needed was someone to love. Now I know Mr Winston is a little prejudiced against non-Christian religions and gay relationships, but perhaps there’s some truth there. Perhaps it’s your love as much as Bragi?’

‘But I love him more than ever,’ Anders said, affronted.

‘I know. But when did he last have blood?’

‘I don’t know, god, probably around the time Jane rolled up.’

‘When was that?’

‘Er, well over eighteen months ago.’

‘He’s never been that long without blood.’

‘What about when he was with the girl in the sixties, he told me he was clean for ages.’

‘What do you think that means to John? Ages?’

‘I don’t know, few years?’ Anders took a swig of whisky and made a disgusted face. ‘Is there vodka left?’ he asked. Ellen nodded and fetched a bottle from the freezer.

‘There, have plenty,’ Ellen said, putting her hand on his arm. Anders shook his head slightly before heeding her advice and pouring a large measure. ‘It was months, lovey, the longest he’s ever been is months. I knew because I saw people coming through their doors, but he also admitted it to me.’

‘So, how many months?’

‘Five, six?’ Ellen said. ‘Possibly seven or eight but definitely not anything like this long.’

‘So, what does this mean?’ Anders asked, panicked.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Was she right? Was Jane right, about what would happen to him?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ellen said, looking at the table. ‘Maybe the longer he goes without blood, the stronger the urge becomes.’

‘He can’t make blood, Jane said he couldn’t die but he’d wither, he like a corpse. Is that’s what happening?’ Anders’ voice rose in panic.

‘I don’t know. That day she looked after him, I was there for a long time watching them. She was really worried about him. She was telling him he needed to drink real blood soon, that her blood wouldn’t work for long and he took so much she was close to passing out at one point.’

‘Blood definitely makes them stronger. Jane was much stronger than either of us. So,’ Anders paused, taking another gulp of vodka, ‘it would make sense if not having blood made him weaker.’

‘What will we do, if it’s true, if what she said is true?’

Anders shrugged, then seeing Ellen’s stricken face looked thoughtful. ‘I’ll use Bragi,’ he began. ‘I’ll use Bragi to get mortals to donate blood, not directly like that weird blood and sex scheme him and Carl had, which didn’t work in the end anyway, but like at the hospital. Then I’ll use Bragi to make them forget.’

‘Do you think that would work?’

‘I don’t know, worth a shot.’

‘He’d never agree to it.’

‘He might not have much choice. But, look, we don’t know it’ll come to that. He’ll probably get over this and be fine again. Maybe if Axl would hurry up and find the Frigg I’d be more powerful and my powers would work better on him.’

Ellen nodded and gave him a small smile.

‘It’s true about Jane though,’ Anders asked. ‘She definitely isn’t haunting him?’

‘I don’t think so, not literally. I almost wish she was because then I could stop her, but she’s only haunting him in his own head.’

Anders nodded and poured more vodka.

~

Mitchell was asleep in his clothes when Anders went to bed. He’d been sleeping for hours, Anders was slightly lightheaded from the vodka but managed to get his jeans off and with Ellen’s help get him under the covers. Anders crouched beside him and saw a tiny thread of gold hanging out his closed fist. Gently opening his hand Anders took the gold heart pendant that Jane had been wearing when she died and laid it on the bedside table.

‘What’s that,’ Ellen said, settling into the chair they’d moved into the bedroom for her while she watched over them at night.

‘It was Jane’s,’ Anders said softly, thinking of her laughing face as he looked at it and feeling a confused stab of guilt for killing her.

~

**A week later**

‘I did it,’ Mitchell said as he walked into the flat. ‘I quit the hospital. That was my last shift.’

Anders nodded. ‘You did the right thing.’

‘Doesn’t feel like it,’ Mitchell sighed.

‘Hey, come here,’ Anders said, patting the sofa as Mitchell dropped down beside him. ‘You have the job at the bar, you’ll be good at that.’

‘Maybe, I don’t think I should do something where I meet so many people though.’

‘But Mike’s there to keep an eye on you.’

‘I suppose.’

‘And nobody dies in a bar.’

‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

Anders shifted and shrugged.

‘You’re worried I’m going to walk through a door, aren’t you?’

‘Well…yes,’ Anders admitted.

Mitchell let out a long sigh. ‘Anders, I would never leave you like that.’

‘Good.’ Anders gave him a kiss, keen to end the conversation.

‘Is that why you really want me to quit?’

‘Well, there’s a risk, you said so yourself.’

‘Yes, but is that what you’re worried about, or the door?’

‘The door,’ Anders admitted. ‘The way you’ve been, you’re so depressed…’

‘I promise I’m not just going to walk through some random door. I’m not leaving you, unless you want me to.’

‘Of course I don’t want you to. I just wish you’d cheer up.’ Mitchell sighed and put his arm around Anders.

‘Just being with you makes me happier.’ Mitchell leaned in to give him a soft kiss on the lips.

‘Hey,’ Anders said, putting a hand on Mitchell’s thigh. ‘Your mum’s out. With Ingrid. Which means they’ll be gone ages.’ He ran his hand up Mitchell’s thigh and palmed his crotch, as he slipped his other hand under Mitchell’s t-shirt and ran it up his chest. ‘God, I’ve missed this,’ Anders said, climbing into his lap and kissing him.

‘No, no,’ Mitchell said, taking Anders’ arms and pushing him away. ‘We can’t, I can’t. I’m so sorry.’

‘John, are you seriously saying we’re never going to have sex again? Because I really would rather die.’

‘Don’t joke about that.’

‘Look, it’s hardly the first time I’ve been bitten,’ he said referring to the handful of other occasions Mitchell had accidently bitten his shoulder or back, not to mention Jane leaving blood running down his chest. ‘And it won’t happen again, not after that.’ He leaned in again and kissed Mitchell’s neck. ‘You could give me a blowjob, no danger there.’

‘There is.’

‘How?’ Anders asked with exasperation. ‘You have your mouth full.’ Mitchell simply blushed and avoided Anders’ gaze. ‘Oh yes, you practically spunk yourself, don’t you? Because you love my cock so much,’ Anders ground against him, pulling his t-shirt up and roaming over his chest. ‘God, it’s sexy when you’re grinding into the floor or bed or whatever just because you’re sucking me off.’

‘And my mouth could slip to your thigh,’ Mitchell protested, he was getting hard from Anders’ touch and wanted to stop, now, before it went too far.

‘Good, I like you kissing my thighs, anywhere else you want to kiss?’

‘You know there is! Now stop!’ he pushed Anders off him and folded his arms.

‘What about I tie you up then?’ Anders asked, determined.

‘What?’ Mitchell said.

‘I tie you up, don’t look so shocked, we have all the gear. For a reason.’ He went back to kissing Mitchell’s neck and groping him. ‘Come on, you love a bit of bondage and if you’re tied up you can’t do anything even if you did go all vampy.’

‘So how would it work? What would we do?’

‘I tie you up, then ride you or fuck you or whatever.’

‘Anders, in all the time we’ve been together, you’ve never tied me up. Do you even know how to tie a proper knot?’

‘How hard can it be? Anyway, we have handcuffs.’

‘But you won’t like it,’ Mitchell said. ‘And it could go wrong.’

‘John, of course I’ll like it, it’s sex with you. Please, please! Look, we’ll tie you up really well so if you do lose it, which you won’t, then you won’t be able to do anything.’

Mitchell looked at him, worried and frowning. ‘I don’t know. It’s not worth the risk.’

‘There’s no risk,’ Anders said, kissing him again and climbing back into his lap. ‘Don’t you love me?’

‘You know I do.’

‘Then fuck me, please, for me. At least try.’ Anders started to undo his jeans. ‘God, I’m ready to explode.’

‘Ok, but we need to be really careful.’

~

Mitchell was lying on the bed, naked. An equally naked Anders was doing his best to bind his hands with rope. ‘No, that’s not tight enough,’ Mitchell said.

‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘You can’t, I’m a vampire.’

‘I mean, I don’t want you to feel pain, you egg,’ Anders said.

‘It needs to be tighter so there’s no way I can get out. Then get the purple ties and tie my ankles together.’

‘So I’m not fucking you then?’

‘It’s taken you fifteen minutes to get this far and you’ve only badly bound my wrists, you’ll never get my legs restrained in a way that lets you fuck me.’

‘How come you can do it so fast, you make it look so easy,’ Anders muttered, grabbing the purple ties.

‘You don’t want to know.’

‘Must help that I don’t give you a running commentary on your technique or tense up all the time.’

‘You go floppy like a rag doll, that helps.’

‘Because I’m happy to let you take control. Any chance you could do the same?’

‘No, which is sort of the point, isn’t it? Oww!’

‘Sorry, sorry,’ Anders said, loosening the purple tie around his ankle. ‘Hey, I have a brilliant idea, let’s gag you, then you can’t bite me! We have a little ball gag, remember you got it when your mum never went out and you said I couldn’t be quiet.’ He leaned over the bed and rummaged underneath. ‘There,’ he said grinning pulling out a smallish ball gag. ‘Now I can undo the ankles because as long as you can’t reach the clasp on this we’re safe.’

Mitchell frowned and looked nervously at the gag.

‘You were the one who brought it,’ Anders said. ‘You were quite happy for me to wear it, whilst I was tied up a lot more than you are.’

‘Ok,’ Mitchell finally nodded, letting Anders undo the ankle ties. ‘We need a safe signal,’ he said as Anders started fitting the gag.

‘Stamp your foot?’ Anders suggested. Mitchell nodded. ‘Hey, don’t worry, it’ll be fine.’

‘Are you sure about this? You’ve gone soft again.’

‘That’s because I’m concentrating on this. Are you comfortable?’

‘Yeah, um, shall we get on with it?’

Anders slid the gag into place and got Mitchell to blink to indicate he was comfortable. Then he began to slowly kiss and stroke Mitchell’s body, stroking himself back to hardness as he did so. Mitchell’s cock was still flaccid, his body held tense. Anders smiled and kissed down his torso, taking Mitchell’s cock in his mouth and rolling his tongue around it.

‘Just relax,’ Anders said, then thinking what Mitchell said to him when their roles were reversed added. ‘I’m going to make it good for you, baby.’

Mitchell nodded and made an effort to relax, he started to get hard inside Anders’ mouth and let out a moan when Anders parted his legs and started to kiss his balls, then back and back.

‘Going to open you up,’ Anders whispered as he began to lick Mitchell’s hole.

After a couple of minutes Anders lifted his head. Mitchell was so tight still. ‘Are you ok?’ Anders asked, concerned. He noticed Mitchell was soft again and was sweating. Mitchell nodded. ‘No you’re not,’ Anders said, moving up the bed and undoing the gag hurriedly. Mitchell spluttered and panted hard, his breaths ragged.

‘Take them off, take the ties off,’ he begged, his voice panicked and tears forming in his eyes. Anders hastily complied before gathering Mitchell in his arms, alarmed as Mitchell let out a harsh sob.

~

‘It’s the only way to stop a vampire, in those first few weeks of being clean,’ Mitchell explained. ‘You can’t go from feeding every few days to nothing overnight. So you get tied to a chair.’

They were lying in bed, under the covers, curled up together, arms and legs entwined as Mitchell explained, his head on Anders’ shoulder, the safe warmth of his lover giving him the comfort and courage to explain.

‘And there, on that chair, you sweat and you scream with rage and want and you howl with the pain of it all. Then you see them, their faces, the faces of all the people you killed. And you want to feed again, not just because your body is screaming for it, but because you can see the faces of your victims and the only thing that will stop you from truly feeling what a monster you are is feeding the monster again.’

‘God, I’m so sorry,’ Anders said, stroking his hair and kissing his head. ‘We’ll never do that again. You poor thing.’

‘Poor thing? I deserved every second of it. I deserve a lifetime of it.’

‘You don’t. You’re a good man.’

‘I’m really not.’

‘John, I met a lot of vampires in London and I saw all of their crimes. Some are desperate, you can see that, desperate and scared. They won’t last long. Some are sadistic and perverted and love the power they have. And some are just what they are, predators, sharks in a sea of people.’

‘Jane wasn’t cruel to her victims,’ Mitchell mused. ‘Unless it was a man who’d hurt her, she just saw them as prey, as less than her, like a wolf sees a lamb. But I hate how vampires see humans as lesser beings, as if we’re the superior ones. It’s an affliction, not a gift.’

‘You’re not like any of them though, you fight it, you fight it not just for yourself, but for others. And god, you had Jane after you…’

‘I’m not winning the fight,’ Mitchell said blankly. ‘It’s all I think about, all day, all night. Even after you do your thing, it helps, but then it’s back, eating away at me. I see people and I just want to rip their throats out and drink.’

‘Do you want my blood?’

‘No, no, I never did, definitely don’t now, it made me sick. That last time I was just carried away, and I let my eyes go because you like it, it was habit, slipping into old habits because I’m always thinking of _her_.’

‘That’s because she _is_ blood in your mind.’

‘You’re very wise these days,’ Mitchell said with a smile. ‘Are all those cosy chats with my mother finally rubbing off on you?’

‘I am a god you know,’ he said breezily. Anders paused, thoughtful, stroking Mitchell’s curls and winding one around his finger. ‘When you shagged Jane, was it ever really loving, really slow and saying I love you, that sort of sex?’

‘No, I mean we had times when it was more normal I suppose, we didn’t always bite each other if that’s what you’re thinking, but it was never like that.’

‘Then let’s do that.’ Anders titled Mitchell’s head so they looked at each other. ‘Make love to me, look at me and tell me you love me and say all those soppy things you say to me when you have too much wine.’

‘And will you say it back?’ Mitchell asked, almost shyly.

‘Of course I will.’

~

It was slow, achingly slow and Anders had one hand in Mitchell’s hair, the other stroking his arm.

‘I love you,’ Anders said again. ‘You’re the only person I’ve ever loved and the only person I ever will love.’ He reached up to stroke a curl off Mitchell’s forehead and gripped his shoulder.

‘I love you too,’ Mitchell said. ‘You’re so beautiful, god, you’re lovely. I think about you all the time, I love you more than anyone I’ve ever met in my long life.’ Mitchell thrust into him again, his hand stroking Anders’ cock. ‘Come for me now, baby,’ Mitchell said and a few moments later he felt the warm splash on his hand and leaned forward to kiss Anders. ‘Love you so much,’ Mitchell said, biting his lip with the effort not to come.

‘Love you too, I love you more than anything,’ Anders said, panting a little and purposely squeezing around Mitchell again, eliciting a cry. He could feel Mitchell’s arm tremble. ‘Come, show me how much you love me.’ Then Bragi was there. _‘Come for me, John. I love you and I want you to come, to fill me. Look at me when you come.’_

Mitchell held Anders’ gaze, every muscle of his face strained as he tried to hold back, scared of what would happen if he lost  control even for a moment, then he could hold back no longer, he screwed his face up and cried out as he came and Anders covered him in kisses as he collapsed on top of him panting and crying.

‘See, we did it,’ Anders said, kissing away his tears. ‘Love conquers all, it’s true after all.’

‘I love you so much, so so much,’ Mitchell whispered, holding him tight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, prepare for another glut of chapters, writing is my therapy, I've been stressed and my beta reader is back from holiday! I have 4 more ready! Thanks for putting up with my erratic updates.


	29. Sooner or Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell starts working in Mike's bar, but he's starting to feel the effects of not drinking blood. Will there be consequences?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette.

**A week later**

The bar was reasonably busy for early evening, Mike’s renovations had added a pool table and dart board (free beer all night promised to anyone who could best the proprietor) and Mitchell liked the wooden panelling, he knew the wood had come from the Hofting, the ship that brought the gods to New Zealand many years ago and there was something about it that comforted him, reminded him of Anders. Despite his sadness at so suddenly quitting his job at the hospital he’d found this a happy place to work. He enjoyed the company and various members of Anders’ family were always around. They knew what he was and even though nobody but Mike and Michele knew he had accidently attacked Anders that made him feel safer nonetheless.

Mitchell reached to get two bottles of beer from the fridge. ‘There you go, guys,’ he said to Zeb and Axl. It was his second shift in Mike’s bar and things had gone fairly well so far. ‘That’s ten dollars.’

‘Ah, did Mike tell you about our family discount?’ Axl said, smiling.

‘That is with the family discount.’

‘Axl gets a special discount as he’s Odin,’ Zeb said, trying to sound impressive.

‘Mike also mentioned his family will say and do anything to avoid paying for alcohol,’ Mitchell smiled, holding out his hand as a reluctant Axl paid up.

‘So you enjoying this?’ Axl asked.

‘Yeah, I am,’ Mitchell said, grinning. ‘Everyone’s been really nice.’

‘Is Anders popping by later?’

‘Probably, I think him and mum are sorting some paperwork for the flat in London, but he said he’s pop in and say hello.’

‘Hey,’ Zeb said. ‘When do you move into your new house? Are you having a housewarming?’

Mitchell smiled again. ‘I expect so.’

‘Will it be a god only party?’ Zeb asked.

‘Well, as I’m not a god, no. So consider yourself invited. Excuse me,’ he said, going to a customer at the other end of the bar. Zeb turned to Axl who was looking at a group of girls at the far end of the bar.

‘Wow, invited to a god party,’ Zeb said.

‘Except it’s not a god party, he just said it’s not,’ Axl said, shaking his head.

‘But there’ll be gods there. And a vampire and a ghost.’ Zeb sounded deeply impressed.

‘You can’t even see Ellen.’

‘But she’s written me little notes and makes a great cup of tea.’

‘It’s still not a god party. Hey, check out the chicks over there.’ Axl nodded towards a group of girls Mitchell had just served at the other end of the bar.

‘They are fine looking ladies, especially the blonde twins. Hey, look cool, look cool, one’s coming over.’ Axl immediately straightened then leaned on the bar in an attempt at casual cool.

‘Hi,’ the girl said smiling. She had long strawberry blonde hair and wore cut off denim shorts with a loose white shirt, she was pretty, with a friendly open face.

‘Hi,’ Axl said with a smile.

‘My friends and I were just wondering,’ she began, coy and slightly embarrassed. ‘If you know the new barman, the Irish guy?’

Axl and Zeb inwardly groaned. They’d been out with Mitchell and Anders a few times as Anders had promised that Mitchell’s looks and his sweet talk would ‘reel in the Frigg’ and this always happened.

‘Yeah, we know him,’ Axl began.

‘He’s gay,’ Zeb cut in.

‘Oh really?’ the girl said, disappointed. ‘Um, just my friend really liked him. Are you sure?’

‘He’s my brother’s boyfriend,’ Axl said sympathetically. ‘Very, very gay, trust me.’

‘Shame,’ she said shrugging.

‘We’re not though,’ Zeb said brightly.

‘Er, no, definitely not,’ Axl agreed. ‘Can we buy you a drink?’

It was a fairly busy evening and Mitchell didn’t really have much time to chat to anyone for long. He was enjoying himself though, even the periodic flashes of hunger were easily distracted by another customer, unlike at the hospital where he often worked for hours without anyone talking to him properly. He was starting to tire at ten, a lightheadedness creeping up on him when Anders strode in with Ellen, lifting his spirits.

‘Hey you,’ Mitchell said affectionately to him, not sure whether it was acceptable to lean across the bar and kiss him when he was at work. Anders looked gorgeous, he was still wearing his suit, albeit without the tie and shirt somewhat rumpled. When he grinned back at Mitchell his face lit up and dimples appeared on his suntanned cheeks and Mitchell felt a swoop in his stomach. He grinned again as Anders, not bothered what anyone thought, walked behind the bar, grabbed him by the waist and gave him a kiss.

‘Hello, I must congratulate Mike on finally hiring some hot bar staff.’ Mitchell giggled at that, not caring that he sounded like a love struck kid. ‘Good evening?’

‘Yeah, it’s been good. But you have to get out from behind here. I am working.’

‘You’re so strict, are you always so strict?’ Anders asked with a wink, going to sit next to Ellen on a barstool.

‘Hello, Ma,’ Mitchell said quietly.

‘This lady is a legend, she has sorted everything out in London.’

‘Oh it was nothing, it’s easy these days with emails,’ Ellen said modestly.

‘I could never have done all that. So, my treat, what do you want to drink? I’ll have to drink it obviously, but your pick, as long as it’s not port, I hate port.’

‘Ohhhh, I’ll try a modern drink I think,’ Ellen said, wandering behind the bar to look in the fridges.

‘Nothing gross please,’ Anders called. ‘And definitely no WKD.’ He turned to Mitchell, beaming. ‘You’re looking especially hot tonight, have all the ladies been chatting you up?’

Mitchell glanced at his clothes, he was wearing a short sleeved checked shirt over a grey vest with black jeans. ‘I’m wearing old clothes.’

‘Yeah, but the sleeves are really tight around your biceps, I can’t wait for you to pull a pint.’ He looked around. ‘I bet everyone’s so jealous of me. John, what the heck are Axl and Zeb doing with a bunch of gorgeous women?’

‘Er, I don’t know,’ Mitchell said. ‘Chatting them up I think.’

‘Hello, look at the twins, now tell me you don’t want a foursome.’

‘I don’t want a foursome.’

‘Ah, bugger. They look like goddesses. In fact, don’t you think they look like Frigg?’

‘Er, I have no idea, what does Frigg look like?’

‘Can I have some of this?’ Ellen asked pointing at the peach schnapps.

‘No, I hate it,’ Anders said, wrinkling his nose. ‘Anything else though. Except pernod, advocaat or that foul blue stuff, yes that one. Frigg,’ he said turning back to Mitchell, ‘is obviously one hot Scandinavian babe, like those two.’

‘What about this?’ Ellen asked, holding up a bottle of Smirnoff Ice, which Mitchell swiftly grabbed so it didn’t appear as if the bottle was hovering in mid-air.

‘Yeah, that’ll do,’ Anders said.

‘Five-ninety,’ Mitchell said holding out his hand.

‘Did Mike not tell you about my discount?’

‘That is with your discount.’

‘Don’t I get a special boyfriend discount?’ he pouted. ‘Plus I’m only drinking it as a favour to your mum.’

‘Oh, you’re so kind,’ Mitchell said, hand still outstretched.

‘There,’ Anders said, resentfully thrusting a note at Mitchell. ‘Now, come on Ellen, we have a mission.’

‘We do?’ she said, taking his arm as he took a sip.

‘Wow, this stuff really does taste like lemonade, you like this crap?’

‘Ummm, yes, it’s sweet and I’m getting the lemons!’ she said excitedly. Anders looked at the bottle, frowned, then shrugged and took another glug.

‘Now, let’s go spread a little happiness, Ells.’

‘What are we doing?’ she asked, walking alongside him, holding his arm.

‘We’re going to help my little brother find the Frigg. At the very least help put a smile on his face. Ah, Axl, hi.’

‘Hi, Anders,’ Axl said, turning around. Him and Zeb were on the edge of the group of girls, he gave Ellen a small wave, unsure whether he should acknowledge her. ‘Er, this is my brother,’ Axl said to the girls.

‘The bar owner or the gay one who’s with the hot barman?’ one of the twins asked, rolling her eyes.

‘Gay one with the hot barman,’ Anders grinned, smugly. ‘The barman is very, very gay by the way,’ he added. ‘Just to make that absolutely clear.’

‘That’s not technically true,’ Ellen whispered, laughing.

‘Shushh,’ Anders said aside, before speaking to the girls again, Bragi on his lips. ‘ _Now, the good news is, ladies, is that these two gentlemen are straight, as straight as an arrow. So, while I’m going to bed with those sexy bulging biceps around me tonight, you can have Axl or Zeb here, who are very good company and both excellent at pleasing a lady, if you take my meaning. And you two,’ he said turning to the twins. ‘Would really enjoy chatting to my brother in particular. Have a nice evening_.’

He turned around and walked back to sit at the bar, as Axl turned to the girls who looked at him with renewed interest.

‘You shouldn’t do that,’ Ellen said, giving him a hard look.

‘What did he do?’ Mitchell asked. He had a quiet moment and leaned against the pumps.

‘Used Bragi on those girls.’

‘Look, I just told them Axl and Zeb are straight, which is true and good company, which some people think so, I’m not sure who, but I’m sure someone does, Gaia liked them,’ he added, before feeling a strange shiver run through him at her name. He looked at Mitchell and pushed the thought of her away. ‘I may have suggested they can please a lady, which could also be true for all I know, I mean they can find out and let me know. What?’

‘You shouldn’t use Bragi for that,’ Ellen said, her eyebrows now knitting together making her look angry.

‘I hardly did anything, look, I didn’t tell them to go sleep with Axl or Zeb, I merely suggested that if they did they wouldn’t be unsatisfied.’

Mitchell scowled at him. ‘Ok, I guess.’

‘May I remind you that when we met you encouraged me to get you a bottle of free champagne!’

‘Oh, John, you didn’t,’ Ellen said, disappointed.

‘Only to prove you could!’ Mitchell said, then he smiled. ‘You were such a dick about it.’

‘Didn’t put you off my dick,’ Anders muttered.

‘Why did you do it, Anders?’ Ellen asked, choosing to ignore his comment.

‘Why? Because I’m a nice guy. And one of those twins could be the Frigg, in which case it would be great if Axl nailed her, we all got our powers and I could talk John out of wanting blood forever, hell, one of us might even be able to cure him.’ Anders gulped the rest of his drink down. ‘You still like that stuff, Ells?’ she nodded. ‘One more please,’ he said, looking to Mitchell, but Mitchell had come around the other side of the bar and was wrapping Anders in his arms. ‘What’s all this?’

‘I love you,’ Mitchell whispered, bumping their noses together.

‘Oi, put him down, Anders,’ Mike said, emerging from the stairs. ‘Two reasons, one his work rate’s a lot better when  you’re not distracting him and two I keep getting women asking about him, it’s good for business.’

‘I think you have to pay him more if you’re pimping him out like that,’ Anders said as Mitchell went back behind the bar to serve another customer.

‘I heard those twins discussing his arms earlier,’ Mike said, putting down a box and leaning on the beer pumps to talk to Anders and Ellen. ‘I mean what is it? He never cuts his hair, hardly ever shaves, dresses like a student and women are queuing up for him. And he tamed Anders.’

Ellen laughed as Anders made a crude gesture which she couldn’t see. ‘He’s always been very handsome, like his dad. He had lots of girls admiring him when he was young too,’ she said proudly. ‘In those days he was much smarter too and cut his hair.’

‘Can I get another drink?’ Anders asked. ‘Smirnoff Ice,’ he said, reading the label of the empty bottle.

‘What you drinking that crap for?’

‘Treat for my favourite lady,’ he said, nodding at Ellen. ‘She sorted all the paperwork from London.’

‘Nine dollars,’ Mike said, passing him another bottle.

‘What happened to my discount?’

‘You just brought a bloody mansion and you want a discount from me?’

‘It’s for Ellen, are you saying you charge ghosts?’

‘Oh, just pay,’ Ellen chided. ‘Poor Mike pays for everything.’

‘You’re meant to stick up for me, you know?’ Anders said shaking his head. ‘Hey, look, I reckon Axl’s getting somewhere, get in there my lord Odin,’ he said, nodding towards the group at the end of the bar, where the blond twins were now laughing at something Axl had said and leaning towards him with interest.

‘You don’t want to know, trust me,’ Ellen said to Mike, rolling her eyes.

~

It was late when Mitchell finally got home. He looked in their bedroom and saw Anders already sound asleep. Mitchell leaned over him and kissed his cheek softly before wandering into the living room where found his mum knitting.

‘I’m making a cardigan for Ingrid,’ she said. She was sitting amongst various balls of brightly coloured wool, following a complicated pattern for a chunky patterned cardigan. ‘Have you got a minute?’

‘Sure,’ Mitchell said, sitting on the floor and resting his head on her knee.

‘Are you sure it’s safe? Sleeping with Anders again?’ she asked, not looking up from her knitting.

Mitchell went red and looked up at her, eyes wide. ‘Did you …?

‘No, lovey, I didn’t catch you in the act, thank the lord. But the way you’ve been the last week, all the touching and kissing. It’s obvious you’re sleeping together again.’

Mitchell shrugged. ‘He wanted to.’

‘Of course he did, you knew he would. But can you control yourself when you have sex?’

‘Yes,’ Mitchell said. ‘It’s not like before, Christ I really don’t want this conversation about my sex life with my mother.’

‘I need to know I’m not going to find you covered in blood and him with his throat ripped out, I’ve seen enough people you’ve done that to walk through their door, John, I’m not going to watch the same thing happen to Anders just to spare your blushes. Explain how it’s safe.’

Mitchell sighed. ‘Look, before we did some stuff, that was… was, um, made it more likely.’

‘The modern word is kinky.’

‘Oh Christ, Ma!’

‘It is!’

‘I know it is!’

‘Well anyway?’

‘And now we’re, well, we’re not and it’s very lovely and all about love,’ he said, his cheeks burning. ‘It’s more spiritual.’

‘Well, that’s good. But don’t get bored and go back to the risky stuff, use porn if you have to. I checked online and there’s lots of gay porn too, all sorts of stuff out there, I’m sure you’ll find something you like.’ Ellen glanced at her pattern, needles still clicking as Mitchell stared at her open mouthed.

‘You know it was such a mistake ever getting you on the internet,’ Mitchell groaned. ‘Now, I’m exhausted, I’m going to bed. To sleep.’ He got up and gave her a kiss.

‘I’ll be through in a few minutes to watch over you,’ she said.

It had been a good evening, Mitchell thought, but it was still sobering to be reminded that he may wear a human skin, but he remained, underneath, a monster who couldn’t be trusted to sleep next to the man he loved without attacking him. He was a vampire and always would be.

~

The weeks passed and Mitchell continued to work at the bar, making friends amongst the regulars and disappointing hopeful females. Anders and Dawn bickered through the hot Southern Hemisphere summer and Ellen eagerly decorated the flat with Christmas decorations and insisted on having a family Christmas, which ended up being in Mike’s bar as the moving date had been put back yet again, much to their disappointment.

New Year came and went in a blaze of fireworks and Mitchell grew increasingly tired of the long hours of sunlight. He was the only man on the north island wearing a long sleeved top in January, but the sun hurt him these days and he couldn’t wait for the days to shorten and the sun to wane as winter approached.

It was on an autumnal day in March that Mitchell fainted. He was packing up the kitchen and lifting a box of saucepans. He was tired, his nights were punctuated with horrific images of the mutilated bodies in the Box Tunnel, he could see them all, throats and guts ripped out, blood everywhere, Daisy grinning at him. Then when he looked at the faces of the victims he saw Annie, Josie, George, Nina, Dawn, Ty, and worst of all his mother and Anders, staring lifelessly and accusingly at him and he woke up screaming in blind terror.

Then there were the dreams where he and Jane were royalty and people presented them with dead bodies as an offering, just as she had once promised and he laughed as he looked at the corpses of those he loved; laughed, drank their blood and fucked Jane. Those dreams made him feel physically sick, especially when they involved his mother, he had even woken up retching when the realisation hit him as he saw her in her chair knitting.

Now he was coming round on the kitchen floor, a cushion under his head and voices above him. He looked up and closed his eyes again, too tired to work out what was going on.

When Mitchell next woke there was an argument going on. ‘He needs to drink it,’ Anders repeated.

‘That is disgusting and in case you hadn’t noticed he’s unconscious,’ Michele snapped back. ‘I can’t believe I even let you talk me into this.’

‘I talked the guy in charge of the blood store into it. I blackmailed you. Anyway, doesn’t it have to be a special blood type if you put it in their veins?’

‘I got O negative.’

‘What’s that mean?’

‘It’s known as universal blood, anyone can safely receive it, it’s what we give people if we don’t know their blood type.’

‘What do you think, Ellen?’ Anders asked.

Mitchell was vaguely aware of Ellen holding his hand. ‘Do as she says,’ Ellen said, her voice small and shaky. ‘Just save my boy.’

Mitchell felt someone lift his arm, then a sharp scratch on the back of his hand.

‘Oww,’ he cried, eyes flying open.

‘John, John,’ Ellen and Anders both cried at once.

‘What’s going on?’ Mitchell said groggily, pushing himself up.

‘You passed out, you’ve been out cold for nearly twelve hours,’ Anders said, helping him sit up a little and putting an extra pillow behind him.

‘What’s that?’ he said, glancing at the needle Michele had failed to insert.

‘This was going to go in your hand. Doctor Bragi, against my advice, insisted you needed blood and talked the hospital into letting him have some from the blood bank.’

‘I need to drink blood, not have it in my veins, it doesn’t work like that,’ Mitchell rasped. Anders passed him a glass of water and he drank, mouth deadly dry.

‘What do you need?’ Anders asked urgently.

‘Cigarette,’ Mitchell said. Michele sighed as Ellen grabbed his pack and lighter. ‘Thanks, Ma.’

‘You know we don’t normally allow patients to smoke upon waking from comas.’

‘It’s not like he passed out from smoking is it?’ Anders snapped.

‘Well it’s not going to help,’ she said.

‘Do you want the blood now?’ Ellen asked him, picking up a packet from the bedside table.

‘It won’t work,’ Mitchell said. ‘Don’t you think we’d use that if it did?’ he shook his head sadly. ‘It’s too old, vampires need fresh blood that still has life in it.’

‘It has all the ingredients,’ Michele began, but Mitchell shook his head.

‘I’m dead, I’m a vampire. I need living blood.’

‘Can’t you just try it?’ Anders asked, his voice rising in panic.

‘I can try, but it won’t do much.’

‘Will it help at all?’

‘A tiny bit perhaps, depends how old the blood is.’

‘He got it from the delivery stack, so probably quite fresh,’ Michele said, now sitting on the bed, curious and interested.

‘Please, lovey,’ Ellen said, her eyes full of tears. ‘I’ve watched too many of my children die, I can’t watch you too,’ she said before bursting into tears and putting her head on his chest.

Anders passed Mitchell a packet of blood. He looked at it curiously and then ripped it open and brought it to his mouth. He was tentative at first and then as the blood filled his mouth he began to guzzle greedily. He then threw the empty packet down and grabbed the next, then the third, before scrabbling around looking for more.

‘That’s it,’ Michele said. ‘There’s just three.’

Mitchell had blood around his lips and his eyes were black, he snarled at her, fangs bared. She leaned back a little, but her eyes stayed on him, Anders watched her closely as Ellen restrained her son, he saw it in her, just as he saw it in himself, the curiosity, the attraction, Sjorfn was stirred.

‘I’m sorry,’ Mitchell was now saying to her, eyes normal and head hanging in shame, Ellen’s arms still around his shoulders.

‘Forget it,’ Michele said, still looking curious. ‘Did it work?’

‘Maybe slightly,’ he said sitting up a little more, licking his lips and lighting another cigarette.

‘Well, you look better,’ Michele said.

Anders pulled him into a hug. ‘Don’t you fucking do that again,’ he said angrily, shaking him. Mitchell just pulled him tighter to him and held him, rocking him as Anders buried his face in Mitchell’s shoulder.

~

**A week later**

Mitchell was putting out a crate of empty bottles at the bar, it was definitely cooler now and he shivered as he set the crate down in the yard. He leaned against the wall, shaking slightly, his head spinning. He closed his eyes and all he saw was her face, smiling at him, laughing at him, beckoning him. Jane, the embodiment of everything he wanted, the woman who had given him his heart’s desire: endless, endless blood.

The bar was quiet tonight, he wasn’t really needed and Mitchell decided that Mike wouldn’t miss him if he stayed out here for a cigarette. He lit up and leaned against the wall, trying to control his thoughts, trying to block out the heartbeats and the rush of blood through arteries. He knew he should quit his job, stay in the flat with Ellen and Anders, away from temptation. But that would mean admitting how bad it had got, admitting that Bragi no longer had any real effect, admitting that he’d lost and retreat to slowly decline until he couldn’t even lift his own head. He wondered if he’d still be conscious. He hoped not, he craved an end from the violent dreams, the blood soaked fantasies that stalked him day and night. He’d even made excuses to avoid having sex for the last fortnight; not only did he not trust himself, he was too damn weak.

The girl’s name was Claire, she even looked a little bit like Jane with long dark hair and dark eyes. She stumbled out the wrong door of the pub and asked him for a light, stood too close to him because she was drunk and he was good looking.

Mitchell liked to think he tried to fight it, but there was no more fight left in him, he was too weak and too hungry. It was inevitable that sooner or later fate would hand him an opportunity and now it had, he was unable to do anything but submit as fortune’s fickle wheel turned. The sun would rise and John Mitchell, the infamous vampire, would drink blood.

‘When’s your shift finish?’ she asked, grinning at him. Her skin was pale, he could see her jugular vein in his mind’s eye as his gaze fell on her neck. Her skin was almost as smooth as Jane’s, he wondered if it was as easy to pierce with his fangs.

‘It’s quiet, I’d say it was over,’ Mitchell said, controlled, practised charm making him smile and hold her gaze. He could smell her skin, he knew that her heart was beating a little bit faster from the nicotine and because he was leaning in to her. He couldn’t resist, every fibre of his being was screaming at him to drink, all he saw was flesh and blood before him and the pain of not sating his hunger was too much to bear. There was nothing in the world but her blood and his hunger.

‘I heard you were gay,’ she said, raising an eyebrow impishly.

‘Now who told you a thing like that?’ he said, a hand slipping to her hip, drawing her close as he brought his mouth to hers. He didn’t want to spend a long time kissing though, not here, not when her blood was so close, when he could smell it on her. ‘You live near?’

‘Just up there,’ she said, pointing to a block of flats behind them. ‘You wanna see my place?’

‘Anyone home?’ he asked.

‘No, just me.’

‘Lead the way,’ he grinned, taking her hand and planting hot kisses on her neck, using all his strength to restrain his fangs.

The walk home seemed to take an age even though it was only a couple of hundred yards, he had his arm around her, but all he could hear was her heartbeat, it was like a drum in his ear and her blood was so close, he could almost taste it. It took every ounce of his willpower not to tear at her throat in the street, especially when she leaned up to kiss him again.

Claire didn’t waste her time when they got in her flat, she knew what they were there for and she wanted it. She dragged Mitchell to the sofa and pulled the denim shirt he was wearing open.

‘Thank god for poppers,’ she giggled, putting her hands on his chest. Mitchell grinned, pulling her t-shirt over her head, leaning in to kiss her neck. And then it happened. His eyes were black and all humanity was forgotten as he bit down and groaned, the hot rush of blood filling his mouth.

It was the little things that never left you, he thought. Like remembering to keep drinking as they struggled, the quicker the blood left the quicker they went quiet and still; the fast move to stuff a corner of the t-shirt in her mouth, muffling her screams and rolling on top of her to pin her down with his weight. But most of all keep drinking and in no time she was a dead weight, and Mitchell lay on top of her caressing her lifeless form with his hand as he fed and fed and fed, drinking until nothing else flowed into his mouth.

He knew the next best place was the artery in the thigh, her legs were hanging off the sofa and blood would have pooled in her legs when the muscles of her arteries had stopped pumping it. He eased her jeans down, stroking her soft skin reverently before hissing as he sunk his fangs into her thigh, moaning as the blood filled his mouth again and the strength and life flowed back into him.

By the time he had finished there were several neat puncture marks on her body and hardly a drop of blood spilled. He pulled her jeans up and laid her out on the sofa. It was too late to save her, she was long dead and there would be no immortal life for Claire, the pretty girl who wore band t-shirts and Converse trainers and liked drinking beer in Mike’s bar on a Thursday night because she didn’t have lectures on Friday mornings.

Mitchell stood looking at her body, for the first time in months he wasn’t cold and he had the strength to run from the apartment, run down the road and into the night, the horror of what he’d done washing over him and crashing down in great torrents of sorrow, misery and despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, especially to Lancette.


	30. You Can't Tame a Vampire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell has killed. It's a black time for Mitchell and Anders. But just as things can't get much worse, enter Loki, god of tricks and fire. And lawyer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette

‘Hi,’ Mike said as Anders answered his phone. ‘Have you any idea where Mitchell is?’

‘What do you mean? I thought he was at work,’ Anders replied. He was stretched out on the sofa watching Homeland with Ellen. He picked up the remote and paused the TV.

‘He went to put some bottles out over an hour ago and I’ve not seen him since.’

‘And you’re just ringing me now?’ Anders said, his voice rising. ‘Did he seem upset?’

‘No, he seemed fine. He looked tired, I thought he was probably skiving out the back for a bit while it was quiet, but he was perfectly normal.’

‘So he could be lying in a gutter somewhere for over an hour! What the hell?’

‘What’s going on?’ Ellen asked.

‘He’s disappeared from work, over an hour ago,’ Anders told her. ‘Look, why the hell are you ringing me anyway?’ Anders snapped back at Mike. ‘You’re the god of the hunt, so hunt!’

‘I didn’t want to be intrusive,’ Mike protested.

‘I’ll give you intrusive if you don’t tell me where he is this minute.’ Anders heard Mike take a deep breath. ‘Well?’

‘He’s by the harbour, he keeps moving, I think he’s running.’

‘Jesus!’ Anders cried. ‘He’s by the harbour,’ he told Ellen. ‘Look, you go to Mike now and find him and I’ll drive and meet you there.’ Anders grabbed his shoes and car keys as Ellen nodded before vanishing into thin air.

~

Mitchell didn’t know how far he’d run, but his side was hurting and he needed to stop. He leaned against the wall of a building, he had no idea what it was until he looked up and saw the neon sign of a surf board shop, shut up for the night. He looked around, there were people walking near the water, he could hear happy chatter spilling out of bars and restaurants on the waterfront and he slunk back into the shadows of the building. He didn’t know what time it was or how long he’d been gone, but he knew Mike would have noticed his absence by now.

‘Were you planning on finishing your shift?’ Mike said as if on cue, standing a few meters away, but walking towards him.

‘How did you know where I was?’ Mitchell asked shakily.

‘You can’t really hide from the god of the hunt.’ Mitchell then let out a yelp as his mother appeared right in front of him and began looking at him hard, before letting out a slow, pained cry.

‘No,’ she said. ‘No, please no, not again. John, please,’ Ellen said in a low wail, grabbing his shirt front and shaking him.

Mitchell said nothing, his eyes were filled with tears and he looked at his hands, flecked with blood, there were splashes of blood on his shirt too and on his face. Mike was standing next to them now too, his face stricken.

‘What the fuck have you done?’ Mike asked.

~

‘We found him,’ Mike said into his phone. ‘So just go home, we’re bringing him back. Yes, he’s ok. Just don’t leave the flat and don’t say anything to anyone. We’re ten minutes away.’

Mitchell sat motionless in the passenger seat. Mike had taken one look at him and barked to get in the car. His mother hadn’t said anything, she just cried softly. What was there to say? One look at him told Mike what had happened. What excuse could he offer? They walked up to the flat in silence and Anders’ horrified face when he saw Mitchell with clothes stained with blood told him enough.

Mitchell sat on the sofa, listening to his mum crying and waited for Anders or Mike to speak. Anders just sat beside him, head in his hands.

‘Who was it?’ Mike asked, pacing the living room. Mitchell said nothing. ‘Who was it?’ Mike shouted, shocking them all into looking up at him.

‘A girl from the bar,’ Mitchell said, trying to keep his voice even. ‘Claire with the band t-shirts who was drinking bottles of Heineken.’

‘From the fucking bar! So we’re all in this? Great, just great. Where did it happen?’

‘Her flat, over the road, the grey block, you know.’

‘Does she live alone?’

‘Yes.’

‘What’s with the interrogation?’ Anders snapped. ‘Are you going to call the cops?’

‘What?’ Mike asked, incredulous. ‘Of course I’m not going to call the fucking cops! And say what? My barman murdered my customer because he’s a bloody vampire? What do you think would happen when they found a body drained of blood and covered in puncture marks? I mean correct me if I’m wrong, but I assume that’s what they’ll find?’

Mitchell nodded his head bowed.

‘So, my lord Bragi, you better stop looking like you’re going to throw up and get into action, because you have a busy night ahead!’ He was yelling now. ‘Jesus fucking wept, Anders, I warned you think would happen, I told you they kill people, I told you not to bring a fucking vampire into our lives!’

‘He’s not just a fucking vampire,’ Anders yelled back.

‘Tell that to Claire!’

Mike stopped pacing and took several deep breaths, trying to think. ‘Right,’ he said, slightly calmer. ‘This is what we do. Mitchell, get out of those clothes, get showered and pull yourself together. Anders, get your suit on, it’ll be easier if you look respectable. I’m going to call Olaf, we need someone to help with the body and Mitchell can’t go back to the flat. I also need to call Michele.’

‘You really need to tell her?’ Anders asked.

‘Yes, I need her to get us into the pathologist’s office. And lock up the bar. Well,’ he snapped at Mitchell. ‘Go!’

They were quiet for the most part, Ellen’s grief had now driven her to silence, she hovered in the background, anonymous but for the periodic shuddering of furniture and flashing of the lights as they went on and off. Mitchell did as Mike instructed and stuffed all the clothes he had been wearing into a black bin bag. Anders ushered him into the car as they followed Mike back to the bar where an angry Michele and an unusually serious Olaf were sitting nursing glasses of whisky.

‘What are you going to do with the body?’ Olaf asked. ‘You can’t just leave it for the police to find.’

‘We’ll need to move it,’ Mike said. ‘Throw it in water of some kind, somewhere that will disguise the cause of death.’

‘Did anyone see him leave the bar with her?’ Michele asked, throwing a glare in Mitchell’s direction.

‘Mitchell?’ Mike asked.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘There’s CCTV on the corner, by the video shop,’ Michele said.

‘Good,’ Anders said, remembering how often CCTV had led police to exonerate vampires in London. ‘Then all it will show is the girl walking home alone.’

‘Good point,’ Olaf said, trying to be upbeat, it was the first positive thing he’d heard all evening. ‘So we get the body and then what?’

‘Stick it in the back of the truck and drive. There’s still a load of plastic sheeting in the cellar from the building work,’ Mike said. ‘Then we dispose of her, like we did with Helen.’

Anders shuddered at the mention of Helen, the terrible night when he’d lost his beloved Idunn and Gaia had so disastrously replaced her. It made his blood run cold, especially as he had a horrible aching fear that he was going to lose far more tonight. He went to stand by Mitchell and took his hand, stroking the wool of his glove and noticed for the first time in ages his fingers weren’t trembling.

‘That is a shit idea,’ came a booming voice from the doorway.

Anders turned around with the rest of them, open mouthed and the groaned. Colin Gunderson was walking into the bar like he owned the place, his face triumphant.

‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ Mike snapped at him. Of all of Anders’ family Mike perhaps hated Colin the most, though maybe not as much as Ty, but at least Ty had the satisfaction of almost freezing his arm off. Mike’s clever trick of turning their feud into a game may have bested Loki enough to protect his family, but he had never forgiven Colin.

‘I thought you might need a lawyer, you Johnson boys,’ Colin said smiling, wandering behind the bar and helping himself to a large measure of vodka.

‘And why would you think that?’ Mike snapped back.

‘It’s been inevitable ever since your gay lord brother brought that monster into the country,’ Colin said, nodding at Mitchell. ‘What, did you think the arrival of the undead in the pure and unsullied land we have made our new home would go unnoticed? No, while your brother has been getting his arse ploughed by this creature I’ve been keeping tabs on you. What, you thought the cameras were the only means I had of finding out what’s going on in here?’ He laughed at Mike’s look of cold fury. ‘They’re not pets, Mikkel, you can’t tame a vampire. Sorry, Anders, you’ll have to find another cock to suck.’

Colin winked at Anders and took a swig of his drink. Before he could lower his glass Mitchell was on him, eyes black and fangs bared, his strength renewed he easily pinned Colin against the wall and snarled. Michele smiled at the spectacle, she had no qualms about Mitchell finishing off Colin.

‘Do you know how fucking easy it would be for me to kill you?’ Mitchell hissed.

‘Hey, hey, hey,’ Anders cried, pulling at Mitchell as his teeth hovered dangerously close to Colin’s throat.

‘I’ve killed more people than you’ve met, you just fuckin’ remember that,’ Mitchell snarled, shoving him to the floor as the lights flashed on and off and Ellen sobbed in the corner.

Colin picked himself up and smoothed his shirt, ruffled and a little wary of Mitchell but in no way deterred.

‘See, you just can’t domesticate them! Do you know who I am, draughr?’ he asked Mitchell. ‘I am Loki, god of, amongst other things, fire. I could send you to a fiery death right now.’

‘You can’t hurt my family,’ Mike said, a hint of triumph in his voice.

‘That _thing_ is not a Johnson,’ Colin scoffed.

‘He’s family to Anders, who is family to me.’

‘Well, I don’t think the Norse pantheon recognises marriage between gay lords, Mikkel, not that they are married anyway. Now, down to business, if Bragi can control his beast. You have a problem my dear Johnsons. Oh hi Michele, are you mixing with this abomination too?’

‘Get lost Colin,’ she said, looking at her nails.

‘What do you want?’ Olaf asked, standing up.

‘What I want is to clean this mess up so nobody finds out about the existence of this thing and by extension us, that’s what I want. Do you have the body?’

‘We were going to fetch it.’

‘Well you’d better hurry up. Your water idea is shit by the way. She’ll either be found before the puncture marks can be disguised or she’ll never be found, launching a whole missing person’s enquiry which will be centred on this very bar, the last place she was seen alive. Plenty of people will have noticed Mitchell’s disappearing act tonight and your early closure, so there’s risk. Now, Bragi can sweet talk the pathologist, the police, but the entire fucking city? He couldn’t even get me elected as mayor and I’m fabulous.’

‘What’s your plan then?’ Anders asked. He couldn’t stand Colin, but he was keen for any help that might make this nightmare go away and Loki was both clever and powerful.

‘My plan, Anders, is to pay her a little visit later and when the police visit they will find the poor girl set fire to her flat having drunkenly left her hairdryer plugged in, or something.’

‘Won’t they suspect arson?’ Mitchell asked.

‘I’m Loki!’ Colin announced proudly. ‘Good luck to them fucking proving it was anything other than an unfortunate accident.’

‘He can burn shit,’ Olaf explained.

‘Yes, including any evidence you were in her flat, hairs, fingerprints and her body will be so mutilated by the flames they won’t notice the puncture marks or the fact you drained her body of every drop of its blood. Was she drunk when she left the bar?’ he asked Mitchell.

‘Yes,’ Mitchell said. ‘She’d had a few.’

‘Good, there’ll be witnesses to that and Bragi can do his thing if there are any awkward questions, so don’t get any ideas about doing a runner. After that we all come back here and deal with that thing, or we could get that over with now,’ he said, producing a short wooden stake.

‘No!’ Anders cried, he vaguely noticed Mitchell just sat there, not making any move to defend himself, not seeming to care. But it didn’t matter. Michele screamed as the lights went out and the only light came from the glowing grey figure in the long skirt and blouse, who was now floating towards Colin, a terrible look on her face.

‘You touch my son and I’ll deal to you worse than death. Do you know where I can send you?’ she said, lifting him off the floor and pointing to a stainless steel door that had appeared in the wall.

Colin’s mouth hung open in shock, as did Mike’s, Olaf’s and Michele’s. Anders watched with a look of satisfaction which turned to horror and Mitchell made a move to stand up and walk towards the door. Ellen progressed with Colin towards the door, before seeing Mitchell and flinging Colin across the room as the door vanished from the wall and Mitchell sat down again.

‘You harm my son, Anders or any of his family I’ll send you through there. If you like fire you can burn,’ she said, her voice filling the room. And then the door was gone, the lights came back on and Ellen was shepherding Mitchell to a seat.

‘What the fuck?’ Colin said under his breath. Mike, Olaf and Michele were all staring at Ellen, Mitchell was staring at the floor and only Anders retained any presence of mind.

‘Sorry, I forgot to introduce my mother-in-law, Ellen. Here’s a tip, don’t piss her off. On with the plan then?’

~

Nobody really got any sleep that night. Colin visited the flat, watched by the others from the back of the bar. They saw the flames out the windows.

‘Is he still in there?’ Ellen asked, wondering how he could still be alive.

‘Loki isn’t affected by his own fire,’ Olaf explained.

They all stood back as a bang issued from flat. ‘Now what?’ Mitchell asked. It had bizarrely taken his mind off it. There was a task to be done, something that needed to be done to protect people he loved. So it was done.

‘Michele calls the fire service,’ Mike said as Michele opened her phone and dialled. It was now three in the morning; heavy clouds which were now leaking a steady drizzle veiled the moon.  The fire from the flat was the brightest thing in the sky. They all stood in silence listening to Michele’s phone call. Their reveries were shattered by Colin.

‘She had appalling wiring as it happens, easy to pin it on. He was holding a fat, unlit cigar, twirling it in his fingers.

‘You need a light?’ Mitchell asked. Colin barked with laughter.

‘Your pet vampire’s funny, Anders,’ he said as a flare appeared at the end of the cigar. ‘Now, let’s all go home. Anders can do his thing if there are any awkward questions, I’ll be in touch with Dawn tomorrow.’

‘About the police?’ Anders asked.

‘No, I think I’d be an excellent reality TV star, I’d like my own show, a cross between _The Apprentice_ and that jungle one where they make them eat bugs with Australians. You can make it happen, my lord Bragi. And keep your boyfriend on a tighter leash in future. Next time I’ll charge and my rates are phenomenal.’

And with that he got into his BMW and drove off.

‘Thanks,’ Mitchell said to Mike.

‘Look, you get home, we’ll talk tomorrow.’

He walked off to join Michele upstairs leaving Anders, Mitchell and Ellen staring at the burning building. Ellen was crying again and Anders had his arm around her, was whispering words of comfort. It was that small gesture that finally broke Mitchell, the seemingly insignificant a reminder of how much had been lost, of how much he had ruined.

~

**Lunchtime the following day**

Mike knocked on the door of the flat before opening it. They were expecting him having buzzed him up.

‘Where’s Anders?’ he asked.

‘Work,’ Ellen said. ‘He thought it best to act normally.’

‘Yeah, good plan. You all packed then?’ he said looking around at the boxes.

‘We were due to go next week,’ Ellen said. She then noticed Mike’s eyes on the flight bag on the floor and a letter propped up on the table addressed to Anders.

‘But someone’s going sooner?’

‘I can’t stay,’ Mitchell said, through gritted teeth. His eyes were red from crying and he sat, head bowed at the table. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘A letter? Jesus,’ Mike said, letting out a breath. ‘Does Anders have any idea?’

‘If I tell him he’ll talk me out of it. But I can’t stay where there are people.’ Mitchell’s voice was raspy. He’d only recently calmed down. As soon as Anders had left he’d told his mother to come to the hospital with him, wait for the next door for them to walk through together. Ellen had refused, at first Mitchell had raged, begged and pleaded with her, but she had tearfully explained she couldn’t go through someone else’s door. Only her own, not without suffering a terrible fate.

‘Remember the waiting room you found Annie in? That’s where they put people who come in the wrong way. I need to take my door or it could take half of eternity for them to send me to the right place,’ she’d explained, sadly.

‘But I can go through any door?’ Mitchell had said, puzzled.

‘Vampires are different. You’ve already been allocated, you’re sort of there already, frozen in time. You had a door. If you go back through the men know you, where to send you. If I went back through anyone else’s door it would mess things up, like it did for Annie.’

‘And what if I went alone, would your door appear?’

‘If I’d completed my unfinished business.’

‘I thought your unfinished business was to save me?’ he asked. ‘Surely to save me we need a door, so where’s your door?’

‘I don’t know,’ she shrugged.

‘I can’t leave you,’ he said, tears running down his cheeks, remembering how she had been fading when he’d found her, her anchor to the earth slipping away Ellen had been transparent, close to disappearing forever. He could not leave his mother to that fate and he could not stay and live a life amongst humans.

So there was this. Anders would come home to an empty flat and a letter. He knew it was cruel, but he knew Anders would do everything in his immortal powers to stop him otherwise and he couldn’t risk killing again. He would go to the edge of the world and fade away, until his mother’s door appeared to take him. Mitchell had sobbed, fallen to his knees and howled with the pain of it after finishing the letter. He wished Colin had staked him, he wished for an end more than anything. But his punishment was that there was to be no end.

Mike shook his head. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘That this has happened.’

‘You understand I have no choice?’ Mitchell said. ‘I can’t risk it happening again.’

‘I understand.’

‘Look after him,’ Mitchell said. ‘He’ll need his family.’

‘You changed him, he loves you.’

‘Don’t,’ Mitchell pleaded, voice cracking as Ellen let out a sharp cry of anguish and the drawers in the kitchen where she was standing began to open and close rapidly by themselves.

‘We’ll take care of him,’ Mike said, going to the kitchen and grabbing Ellen gently. ‘I promise.’

‘Mike,’ Mitchell said, looking up. ‘Don’t find us, please, it’s for the good of everyone that I’m not found.’ Mike nodded in understanding.

‘What will I tell people, the family I mean?’

‘Tell them what you like,’ Mitchell said.

‘I wasn’t planning on saying anything to Axl and Ty about all this.’

‘Let Anders decide.’

Mitchell got up and picked up his bag and grabbed his car keys. ‘Come on, Ma,’ he said. Ellen shuffled towards the door, her face aged and blotchy from crying.

‘Mike,’ she said in a small voice. ‘I tried to write something to him but I couldn’t. Please tell him… please tell Anders I love him too.’

She began to sob once more as Mitchell and Mike stood beside the door. ‘Thank you for everything,’ Mitchell said again. ‘And I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.’

‘Good luck,’ was all Mike could think to say before he sat down amongst the boxes and waited for Anders to come home. He put his head in his hands, it was tiredness he was sure, but he could have cried for Anders at that moment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm truly sorry. I will fix them. Eventually.


	31. Don't ever, ever fall in love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They quickly made up and lived happily ever after. Oh, that's a lie, sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette.

**Six Weeks Later**

‘Where’s Anders?’ Axl asked Ty. They were outside a mini golf course. It was too cold to be outside and Axl was grumpy.

‘I think Mike was fetching him, along with Olaf,’ Ty replied.

‘Oh right. Is Dawn ok?’

‘Oh you know, apart from work which goes from bad to worse.’

‘How so?’

‘I’ll tell you when Mike’s here too,’ Ty scowled. Axl was about to protest when Mike pulled up alone.

‘Where’s Anders?’ Ty asked.

‘He’s coming with Olaf,’ Mike said, nodding at the car pulling in beside his.

‘Can we go somewhere else?’ Axl asked.

‘No, it’s a Thing, we’re having a Thing,’ Mike said.

‘I’ve never understood why you think playing mini golf with Ullr will do the rest of us any good.’

‘Axl, shut up and get in the line will you?’ Mike said exasperated before turning to Anders and Olaf. ‘You ok?’ he asked.

‘Fine,’ Anders said. He was wearing sunglasses despite the dull day. Olaf shook his head behind Anders’ back.

The game of mini golf was a moderate success once they made Mike an umpire rather than a player, but Anders was more interested in swigging vodka out of a hip flask than the game.

‘So, what’s this about?’ Anders snapped. ‘I have meetings.’

‘Dawn is taking care of your meetings,’ Ty assured him.

‘We’re worried about you,’ Axl said.

‘Worried sick,’ Mike added.

‘Why? I’m fine.’

‘Anders, you are far from fine,’ Ty said kindly. ‘You spent five weeks straight drinking morning, noon and night and abandoned work altogether and now you’ve hardly left the office in a week and Dawn says you’re really hyper.’

‘That’s the coke,’ Olaf supplied helpfully.

‘Well, business is busy,’ Anders said, shrugging.

‘And that’s the other thing,’ Mike said. ‘What on earth are you thinking working with Colin, again?’

‘He pays well, it’s mainly Agnetha’s money he stole anyway, so I see it as my moral duty to the family to relieve him of as much of it as possible. Look, he wants to be a reality TV star, it’s not like he can do any real harm this time. We’re pitching a show a bit like _The Apprentice_ , except with penalties for the losers, sort of like the Aussie jungle show. I mean, Colin is a wanker, but he’s got presence, if Donald Trump can be a TV star so can Colin.’

‘Er, that’s not a great example,’ Axl said.

‘Ok, if Katie Hopkins can, so can Colin.’

‘Who?’ Mike asked puzzled.

‘Oh, some god awful British reality star who now writes click bait columns full of racist shit,’ Ty explained. ‘Again, not a good example, Anders. You are literally saying with your help Colin can be the next Katie Hopkins or Donald Trump. And you have no problem with this?’

‘As long as he pays me, no. And he pays very well.’

‘Well Dawn’s not happy.’

‘Dawn’s never happy. I’ll give her a pay rise and charge it to Colin’s account.’

Anders putted a ball and watched as it went in the hole. ‘Yes!’ he cried, before taking a swig from his hip flask to celebrate. Olaf put an arm around him.

‘How are you?’ Olaf asked.

‘I’m great, I just got a shot in.’

‘I mean in general, since Mitchell left.’

‘I’m fine,’ Anders lied. ‘Ancient history. And another good thing about working with Colin, trips on his yacht, which is full of models. You’re all welcome to come along by the way.’

‘Do you miss him?’ Olaf asked gently. ‘Mitchell?’

‘Why would I miss him when I have a boat full of models?’

‘And what about Ellen?’

‘I’ve managed without a mother since I was fifteen. I think I can cope without someone ironing my shirts and buttering my toast.’ Anders took a large swig of his vodka, pleased he was wearing sunglasses as he blinked back tears.  Olaf shook his head at the others.

‘We just want you to know we’re all here for you,’ Ty said gently.

‘Yeah,’ Axl added. ‘Um, we wondered if you wanted to come over later and brainstorm some ideas for the Frigg hunt.’ Axl smiled, it was a kindly meant gesture.

‘I’ve told you, find as many chicks as you can, hot obviously, bang them all one by one until you nail the Frigg. You want me to come and Bragi some ladies for you?’

‘That’s not exactly what I meant,’ Axl said. ‘But we can go out if you want.’

‘Cool, message me some dates. Right, I have to go now, we are meeting the producer of _New Zealand’s Got Talent_ this afternoon and my powers are very much needed. Though to be honest if you can sell that as a fucking concept selling Colin as an aspirational figure for the _Top Gear_ demographic should be a fucking walk in the park.’

And with that Anders strode off, leaving his family more worried than ever.

 ~

**Three months later**

‘Dawn said he’s being a total dick as usual, there’s been loads of girls too. She’s not sure about guys, but I know he has grindr on his phone.’ Ty confided in Mike, in a hurried whisper. ‘But nothing about Mitchell, he never even mentions his name.’

‘Colin doesn’t help matters,’ Mike said, shaking his head.

‘I hate to say it, but at least it’s given him something to focus on. He’d be dead if he’d carried on drinking like that.’

‘He’s not exactly teetotal now. Jesus, I don’t know, is there any chance this isn’t all a big façade and he’s actually enjoying the string of one night stands, heavy drug use and being drunk every day? This is Anders.’

Ty shook his head. ‘I put him to bed last week, we’d been out for a meal, he gets some message on grindr, disappears, then shows up off his face a couple of hours later.’

‘So he’s seeing guys again?’

‘Only on grindr as far as I know. Anyway, I got him back to bed and you know what was under his pillow? Mitchell’s gloves.’

Mike nodded. ‘Well, there you go. Shushh, they’re coming.’

Axl and Anders wandered over from the bar, they were in a burger bar, having a Bergerbar, which Anders had only agreed to come to as long as it took place in an actual burger bar.

‘Hello,’ Anders said, seemingly upbeat. ‘I thought the blonde at the bar might be Frigg, Axl says no, but I still reckon I can get him a blowjob out of it.’

Axl rolled his eyes. ‘It’s ok, I’m good.’

‘Suit yourself, I got a blowjob last time we had a Bergerbar. Can I be honest though? Guy are better. At blowjobs that is, the thing is that gay men really love cock in a way women just don’t.’

‘Thanks for sharing,’ Ty said drily.

‘I know you’re all just jealous I get the best of both worlds. So, what’s all this in aid of? Other than irony? Has someone’s life got massively fucked up again?’

‘Well, we’re worried about you actually,’ Ty said. ‘We thought you needed, you know, a bit of support.’

‘So you took me for a burger?’

‘Well, it’s a Bergerbar.’

‘Look, I’m fine, in fact I’m better than fine, I’m doing brilliantly, did you see the ratings for Colin’s first show? Turns out being a prick is profitable and popular. Or maybe the trick was to find ten contestants so obnoxious people actually root for Colin, but then I’ve worked with Z listers for years so that bit was easy.’

Anders was referring to the TV show Colin had wanted, which thanks to Anders’ help, was now a reality. Colin Gunderson was now famous for sending z list celebrities who had failed his business tasks to undergo ‘trial by ordeal’ to decide who got through to next week.

‘We meant in your personal life,’ Mike said.

‘My personal life is just fine. Did you know red heads can have different shades if pubic hair from their twin? I never knew that, but I do now, thanks to Millie and Miley.’

‘Who are Millie and Miley?’ Axl asked.

‘Models, well they did _Playboy_ a few years ago, but now work for Colin.’

‘Doesn’t it bother you that aside from being a megalomaniac, dangerous psychopath, he’s also really homophobic?’ Ty said. Out of all his brothers Ty hated him working with Colin the most. Not least because it put Dawn in the path of Loki.

‘I’m mainly off guys at the moment,’ Anders shrugged. ‘And anyway, little does he know what the Five Star Sauna and Massage House, which I charge to his account really is. I make sure it shows up on his bills, it’s good leverage in case he pulls one of his Loki stunts.’

‘What is Five Star Sauna and Massage House?’ Axl asked, genuinely puzzled.

Mike rolled his eyes. ‘Axl, really?’

‘It’s where guys go to get laid.’

‘You should tell Zeb.’

‘Get laid by other guys,’ Anders clarified. ‘It’s brilliant, can you imagine walking in somewhere where there’s loads of naked chicks just desperate to suck your dick? That’s what it’s like.’ He grinned smugly.

Axl was red in the face as the others all laughed at him. ‘Did you see Colin’s show anyway?’ Anders asked.

‘Yeah,’ Mike said. ‘Much as I hate to say it he does fill that role well.’

‘It’s ideal for him,’ Anders agreed. ‘Being a professional wanker. Great for us though, hey, Ty, tell Dawn I may even take on a second assistant we’re so busy.’

‘I’ll tell her,’ Ty said. ‘She’s been flat out.’

‘Check out the old dude in the corner, do you see?’ Anders said nodding and they all looked, and not subtly. ‘Ghost, look how shocked he is we can see him. You know, I see ghosts all over the place now, never used to notice them. If I didn’t know better I’d swear they were following me.’ He gave a mock shudder. ‘Urg, it’s creepy.’

Mike and Ty exchanged a glance. ‘Do you think it’s got something to do with Ellen?’ Mike said tentatively. Anders’ face changed immediately, he took a long drink from his bottle of beer.

‘She’s gone,’ he said simply. ‘Now check out the waitress with the knockers,’ he said, pointing to a girl crossing the room with a pile of plates and a tight blouse.

~

Anders got drunk very quickly after that. Ty and Axl tried to keep a sense of normality, but the girl with ‘the knockers’, as Anders had put it, had taken their order, revealing an Irish accent. A little enquiry had revealed she was practically just off the plane from Dublin. After snapping that he wanted a different waitress as she retreated with their order Anders had found his usual solace in the bottom of a bottle.

‘Here’s your bill, boys,’ the girl said, handing them a tab. ‘It’s a fierce craic you’ve had tonight,’ she added smiling.

Axl pulled an uncomprehending face, Anders just smiled. ‘Now I know what you mean, my brothers, they don’t, but I do because I had an Irishman once you know?’ he was slurring now. ‘And we had a fierce craic every time we went out. And now he’s gone and it’s all gone to shit.’

The girl looked a little disconcerted. ‘What’s your name?’ Anders continued.

‘Clodagh,’ she said, smiling nervously.

‘My boyfriend was called John. Where are you from?’

‘Cork like,’ she said.

‘He was from Dublin, well near enough, County Wicklow really. But a very long time ago.’ Anders downed the rest of his beer.

‘Ah, Dublin lads,’ she said knowingly.

‘Dublin lads, yeah,’ Anders said, swaying slightly in his seat. He didn’t realise his brothers were all watching him, this was the first time he’d voluntarily mentioned Mitchell since he’d left. ‘He was a beautiful Dublin lad. Don’t fall in love, Clodagh from Cork. Don’t ever, ever fall in love.’’

The girl smiled and went to get the card machine. She was young, so young, Anders thought, how could she understand his world of pain?

‘Why do they say the luck of the Irish?’ Anders asked. ‘As if it’s good luck? When he’s cursed? Ellen told me everything, they’re all cursed; five dead babies, the famine, the wars, the Brits, and my poor John, cursed to be a fucking demon when he has the best heart of anyone I ever met.’ Anders stood up unsteadily, Ty jumped up and grabbed his shoulders to stop him falling.

‘Where are you going?’ Ty asked.

‘Outside, I think I’m going to puke.’

**~**

**29 th July **

It was Dawn who saw him cry. It had been five months since Mitchell left and the office was now the base of Colin’s media operation. Both she and Anders were working flat out lining up interviews, scheduling TV appearances around the filming of his show, which had been on air for three weeks and was now a sensation.

Anders had stayed in his flat, the day after Mitchell left he’d ordered Dawn to unpack everything and arrange to let out the house in Herne Bay. Now he lay in the living room, dozing off after a long day culminating in watching Colin’s latest episode. He’d woken up to find _Homes Under the Hammer_ on and in his sleepy haze thought Ellen must have put it on.

‘Get that crap off, Ells,’ he mumbled, closing his eyes again, then feeling a warm hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake, he smiled. He’d been dreaming of Mitchell and now he could feel him waking him up, it was so real, so vivid, he could even smell his skin and dreamt he felt the scratch of his stubble as Mitchell kissed him on the cheek. Anders smiled and rolled over. ‘Let me sleep,’ he whispered, hoping Mitchell would haul him into his lap and hold him close while they watched TV together.

‘Anders,’ Dawn said. ‘Wake up, you need to call Colin, there’s a huge blow up on twitter about Colin calling one of the contestants a _strict dyke who looks like she’d spank you_ , you need to call Colin and then send a press release to the major newspapers, magazines and morning TV.’

Anders blinked and stared at her. ‘I was asleep,’ he muttered, the crashing weight of reality hitting him. Mitchell was not here, Mitchell was gone. Ellen was gone. He was alone and Dawn was babbling to him about some fucking awful TV show he’d talked some sap into producing at short notice as it met both home grown content criteria, was cheap and filled the gap left by a version of _Big Brother_ where contestants were selected only if they _had_ diagnosed mental health problems, under the guise of a study into human behaviour, but had just resulted in cancellation after a fortnight, several pending lawsuits and a gap in the schedule.

‘Sorry, can you make those calls though and for god’s sake do NOT let Colin have the password for his twitter account again, I’ve scheduled a tweet apologising and a longer facebook post about how he really respects women in the workplace.’

‘Colin doesn’t respect women,’ Anders said blankly.

‘I know he doesn’t, but we’re his PR company, we’re paid to lie for him.’

‘Yeah,’ Anders said, picking up his phone, his heart aching so much he thought he felt in almost physical pain. He swiped his phone open and stared at the date, 29th July.

‘Anders, call Colin,’ Dawn said. But he just lay there staring at his phone as she turned her laptop around on the coffee table and started to show him something. ‘Anders?’ she asked again, concerned this time.

He had tears rolling down his cheeks, he couldn’t see the screen anymore, but it didn’t matter, he knew what day it was.

‘Oh god, Anders,’ Dawn said, shocked. She put her hand on his arm. ‘What is it?’

‘The 29th July,’ Anders finally managed. ‘He’s one hundred and twenty-one today.’

Dawn’s mouth opened in surprise. She hadn’t heard him mention Mitchell once in the months since he’d left. Anders generally acted like he’d never existed. She leaned over to give him a small, uncertain hug and was initially alarmed when he reciprocated and put his head on her shoulder and started to sob, proper body wracking sobs.

She let him cry for a long time, didn’t even mind that her shirt got wet. Her own sadness at losing Mitchell and horror at what he’d done were nothing to this. Finally he stopped, embarrassed.

‘It’s ok,’ she said sympathetically.

‘When Ty married Eva was it like this?’

‘Like what?’

‘Like everything had been ripped out of you and you’re just a shell.’

‘Yeah, a bit.’

‘Did it go away?’

‘Well, it got a little easier over time I guess.’

‘This doesn’t. Every day is a day longer that I haven’t seen him,’ Anders couldn’t say his name. He couldn’t even bear to hear his name.

‘Mitchell must have thought he was doing the best thing, because he adored you, I know he did.’

‘He left,’ Anders said. Then there was nothing more to say, because Anders had learned his lesson. All his life he had carefully guarded his heart, he had finally given it to someone and like everyone else he had left. He sighed and cleared his throat. ‘Right, I better call Loki, god of being a smart arsed wanker,’ he said, swiping his phone open again.

~ 

**Near Waikawa, South Island, New Zealand**

It wasn’t so much a cottage as a hut, a log cabin on the end of a dirt road, nothing but wood or coast line as far as the eye could see. The sea crashed and howled against the cliffs, the vengeful southern storms unrelenting. Mitchell wished to be swallowed in their howling fury. But he’d been tied to a chair for months, howling his own pain and anguish day and night.

He was safe now, as safe as he’d ever be. His hair was longer and wilder than ever and he had a beard, thick and black, covering his face. Weak and thin he lay on the bashed up old sofa, his head in his mother’s lap, refusing food, refusing everything except cigarettes which Ellen got from the shop a few miles up the road, leaving a bank note as payment by the till at night.

‘Ma,’ he said, speaking for the first time in hours. ‘Have you ever checked on Anders?’

‘I have people watching him,’ she said, stroking his hair, her face was lined with worry and pain. She didn’t think there was anything worse than losing a child, but there were many times she’d wished Mitchell could peacefully die in her arms rather than suffer like he had the past few months. She’d kept her word to him though and kept him tied up until seven days and nights passed without an outburst. His physical scars, the rope burn on his wrists had soon healed, but he was a shell of a man, too weak to do anything, refusing food and weak from lack of blood she knew he was fading.

‘People?’ Mitchell asked.

‘Ghosts. He’s doing well, the business that is.’

‘Is he happy?’

‘I’m told he goes out a lot, sees a lot of people.’

‘People?’

‘Well, you know, people,’ she said evasively.

‘Can you check yourself?’

‘Do you think that’s a good idea?’ she asked, sceptically.

‘I need to know he’s ok.’

‘I doubt he’s ok, lovey,’ she said, her eyes full of sadness. ‘He adored you.’

‘Do you think I’ll see him again? When we’re both dead, when we both go through our door?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ellen answered.

‘He might fall in love with someone else.’

‘He might,’ Ellen said softly, grabbing a tissue on cue as tears spilt out of Mitchell’s eyes.

‘Where’s your door?’ Mitchell asked. ‘I thought you came back to save me? I need your door, where is it? What’s keeping you here?’

‘I don’t know.’ Ellen bit her lip, she felt she’d cried all the tears in the world in the last few months, her life had never been blacker, but there was no door to save them, no door to take them both away from living hell.

‘It’s him, isn’t it? You love Anders and you can’t leave without knowing he’s ok.’

‘It might be,’ Ellen admitted. ‘I’m so worried about him, you know that ghost from the mall? She says he’s drinking a lot and Gerald, the strange one who was murdered with a cricket bat by his wife, he says he’s taking drugs. Drugs, John!’

‘Well, he’s done that before,’ Mitchell said, trying to sound vague and innocent.

‘And how would you know? Oh, goodness me. Did you lead him astray?’

‘Me? No! I mean we did occasionally indulge, but I didn’t lead him astray. Believe me there’s nothing Anders needed me to lead him astray in.’

‘Well, I can’t sleep I’m so worried about him.’

‘You don’t sleep anyway.’

‘Well I definitely don’t now.’

‘Go and see him then. You could go at night.’

‘I don’t know, what if he’s with someone?’

Mitchell felt his stomach clench at the thought, though he knew there would be people. His mother’s reaction merely confirmed his suspicion that her spies had told her there were many people. He hoped they were girls, that made it slightly more bearable.

‘Go back another day if he is,’ Mitchell suggested.

‘What if he sees me? He’ll be so cross with me, I can’t bear to see him hate me.’

‘Why would he hate you?’

‘For taking you away.’

‘Ma, I took myself away because I’m a monster who needs to be as far away from the human race as I can get.’ Mitchell raised his head and then sat up and put his arm around her. ‘Maybe if you go to him you’ll find out he’s ok and then the door will come.’

‘And what if it doesn’t?’ she asked tearfully.

‘Then we stay here until it does. When I’m … like Jane said I’d be, I’m sure it’ll come then.’ He wished it, wished it so much, to be unconscious, free from his own mind, free from the torment of all their faces, free from the aching loss he felt every moment of the day.

Mitchell lay back down again, he was tired, so very tired. There was an untouched pizza on the table, Ellen’s attempts to make him eat failing yet again. He should eat, without it he became even weaker, but it wouldn’t kill him. Nothing but a stake through the heart would do that and to his frustration anything that could be fashioned into a stake had been removed from the hut and Ellen kept the doors barred from the outside. So Mitchell would just have to wait, live through more torturous days of nothing but his own memories until his long life came to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's always darkest before dawn. Next chapter should be up tomorrow.


	32. Tainted Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellen goes to say goodbye and Anders has a revealing conversation with Colin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette

‘I can’t believe I trusted you!’ Ellen shouted at the young man now staring at his trainers and looking sheepish. ‘Do you think that is _fine_?’

‘Well he was rooting loads of chicks,’ the man said. Ellen let out a huff and a bin went crashing across the alleyway.

‘Rooting chicks? And you thought that meant he was fine! He is not fine!’

‘Well he’s crazy then,’ the man replied, shaking his head and backing away from Ellen. ‘Those chicks were hot.’

‘That is not the point!’ Ellen said, shaking her head. ‘Look, you get going, Brett, I’ll see if I can get Mrs Tuttle to watch him.’

Brett let out a low whistle and pulled the grey hoodie he was wearing over his head. ‘Good luck with that, man, she thinks he’s a reincarnation of Lucifer.’ Brett then lit up a cigarette and walked off, bouncing along the pavement as he pulled on his headphones and Ellen heard his music start up. She leaned against the wall and sighed. She should have known the boy who died at a rave in 2002 from a dodgy pill and had devoted his time since to finding ways to get high as a ghost wasn’t going to be the most reliable protector of Anders.

But then her friend Daphne had been a disappointment too, the middle aged woman who haunted the library Ellen had frequented had been keen to follow Anders, until one of his trips to the Five Start Sauna and Bathhouse. Apparently her open mind to alternative medicine didn’t extend to men who met to have sex during their lunch break.

She’d finally given in to Mitchell’s pleas and her own worry and gone to check on Anders. Her anxiety about leaving Mitchell had finally abated slightly now he spent his days lying on the sofa watching television with barely enough energy to change the channel. He was too weak from a lack of blood and food to break down the doors. So Ellen had taken herself to Auckland and found the big house in Hearne Bay occupied by a young couple, he was a stockbroker, she was a lady who lunched. After listening to a conversation about whether or not she should take prenatal vitamins Ellen had in her distress sent a glass flying off the coffee table and thought it was high time to leave.

Her ghostly spies having let her down she followed Anders herself. She watched his office and then tailed him from afar for the rest of the evening. He’d gone to a party with the man who was Loki, she watched him drink, go to the toilets and snort numerous lines of white powder, drink more and then, along with Colin, spent the night surrounded by beautiful women. Shortly after midnight he’d left with two of the girls, gone back to his old flat and Ellen and stood in the hallway outside the front door as she knew he was inside having sex with them. She was disturbed around three in the morning as the girls left, carrying their stilettoes and clutching a handful of bank notes, enough for a cab, but Ellen was relieved to note it probably wasn’t enough to be payment for sex.

She’d gone inside then, saw the flat looking a mess, bottles and ashtrays littered the table, glasses half empty and a bottle of sticky orange liqueur dripped onto the kitchen floor where it had rolled over. She had heard Anders throwing up in the bathroom as she began to tidy the flat. Finally she heard the bathroom door open and heard him lurching around, trying to get into bed. She cracked then, running to help him, half dragging and half carrying him to bed.

‘Ells?’ he’d mumbled in confusion. ‘I don’t feel well.’

‘Come on, get into bed, lovey,’ she’d said, covering him up with the quilt, plucking a pair of knickers from the pillow and stroking his hair. ‘I’ll get you some water.’

So she’d made him drink water, put a bucket beside his bed and stroked his hair until he fell asleep, then tidied the flat. She doubted he’d remember her putting him to bed, but thought she’d given herself away by tidying the flat. So she decided to stay, speak to him.

Anders was up around ten the next morning, but he was being sick in the bathroom again. Ellen sighed unhappily and waited for him to emerge. A few minutes later he shuffled through to the kitchen, rubbing his head and made for the sink, getting a glass of water. He hadn’t seen her and still didn’t see her as he sat on the sofa and tipped his head back, closing his eyes.

‘Quite a night you had,’ she said softly.

He looked up slowly and opened his mouth but said nothing.

‘How you feeling?’ she asked kindly, coming to sit by him.

He still said nothing for ages. Then finally, ‘did you put me to bed? I dreamed of you, I dreamed you looked after me in the night.’

Anders didn’t resist when she put her arms around him, held him and stroked his head. ‘I’ve been so worried about you,’ she whispered.

‘It’s just the booze,’ he said, trying not to cry and failing. ‘You don’t need to stay.’

‘I’m so worried, I can’t leave you.’

‘You did leave me,’ he said flatly.

‘John… he had to go, he couldn’t live with himself, you see that don’t you? After killing again he couldn’t…’

‘He didn’t love me enough to stay.’ Anders’ hung over state made him raw, physically and emotionally, he simply didn’t have the energy to pretend not to care.

‘Oh god, Anders,’ she said. ‘No, no, that’s not it.’

‘He didn’t love me enough to come back. I thought he might, after a little while. But he didn’t.’

‘He’s been tied to a chair until three weeks ago.’

‘What?’

‘He made me promise not to untie him until he’d gone seven days and nights without an outburst, he said he’d never managed it, but he’d heard that’s what you needed to make you safe. So I kept my promise.’

‘And now?’ Anders was remembering Mitchell’s panic when they’d experimented with tying him up as a way to safely have sex. He remembered how he’d described the horror of being tied up to stop him feeding and the thought of Mitchell tied up for almost five months, with nothing but his worst memories and the full horror of what he was made Anders’ stomach lurch again.

‘Now he’s locked away, where he can’t hurt anyone,’ she said gently, thinking of her beautiful son, lying on the sofa in the wooden hut, too weak to move. Tears fell down her cheeks.

‘Ellen,’ Anders said looking at her. ‘Why have you come?’

‘I needed to see if you were ok,’ she said, still thinking of Mitchell and crying.

‘Well, here you go, I’m fine,’ he lied.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ she asked, wiping her eyes. He nodded and watched as she made it, adding an extra sugar. She placed the mug in front of him with two paracetamol and watched him drink it.

‘How is he?’ Anders asked tentatively after a few sips of tea.

Ellen shook her head but said nothing. There were no words to describe what she’d watched her son endure over the last few months.

‘Why haven’t you taken your door?’ he asked, almost wishing Mitchell was gone forever rather than enduring something too terrible for Ellen to speak of.

‘It won’t come,’ she said.

‘Why? Don’t you want to save him from all this?’

‘Yes, more than anything. But… I can’t leave, I’m worried about you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I can’t leave you, Anders.’

‘You have left me,’ he said, not following and getting irritated.

‘I went with John because he needed me more. But I can’t leave this earth and leave you like this,’ she said taking his hand.

She wanted to say more, wanted to explain more but Anders’ phone rang. He looked at his phone, saw that it was Dawn and answered reluctantly, noting the six missed calls from her already. ‘What?’ he snapped. ‘No, I did not know I had a morning meeting. Dawn, can you stop shouting? I’ve been poisoned. Alcohol poisoning is still poisoning. Well I blame Colin. Look, just deal with all that.’ He looked at Ellen and sighed. ‘No, I will not be coming in today, I have someone here. Bye bye, yes, bye, Dawn.’ He ended the call and switched off his phone, he wanted to go back to Ellen explaining, but the moment seemed to have passed and his mood was now foul.

‘I’m going to sell this fucking business. I don’t need the money, I’ll live out my days partying. Might move to Sydney,’ he said, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead.

There didn’t seem to be much to say. Ellen made him a bacon roll, more tea and changed his sheets as he showered. After he’d slept some more they sat side by side watching a show on TV about pet rescues in Auckland, followed by _Traffic Cops_ in Sydney before sitting through four back to back episodes of _The Great British Bake Off_.

‘It makes me miss London, watching this,’ Anders said after a while.

‘I remember this episode,’ Ellen said. ‘The one with the bicycle made out of bread.’

‘Is that why you tried to make me a loaf of bread in the shape of a Ferrari?’ Anders asked.

‘It looked more like a hedgehog, didn’t it?’ she said, making him smile.

‘A bit.’ He put his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. ‘Do you think Mary and Paul are screwing?’ he wondered idly.

‘Anders!’ Ellen said in an appalled voice. ‘What a notion!’

‘Maybe Mary liked his thick cream, maybe he liked her soft buns?’ Anders was laughing now at Ellen’s horrified face. ‘Look at the way she squeezes the cream out of those pastry horns, she’s definitely had practice.’ Ellen was trying very hard not to laugh. ‘I bet she loves his kneading skills.’

Ellen did laugh then. ‘You’re terrible, you’re a terrible man and I’m glad John can’t hear you say such wicked things about Mary Berry.’

‘Why, did he screw Mary Berry back in the day?’ Anders asked deadpan.

‘Anders!’

‘Or maybe it wasn’t back in the day?’ he teased.

‘You’re a wicked man,’ she said, giving in and laughing properly for the first time in months. ‘Oh, I’ve missed you, lovey,’ she said, giving him a squeeze as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Anders didn’t say anything to that, but just groaned.

‘Careful, I’m still delicate,’ he said, lifting her arm from his stomach.

Ellen stayed until late. They watched more TV, she cooked him some tea, he ate most of it. They discussed the continuing rise in property prices in London and Auckland and the percentage yield on the house in Herne Bay.

‘The money’s all in our joint account, but he’s not touched it,’ Anders said sadly, mentioning Mitchell for the first time all evening. It was the yawning chasm in the room, the pain that he wasn’t there. It was almost as if he was dead Anders thought.

‘He hasn’t left the house,’ Ellen said quietly. ‘He can’t.’

‘Where is he?’

‘He made me promise not to tell you, he wants you to live your life and not go looking for him.’

‘Isn’t that my decision?’ Anders said, the anger he felt rising. ‘It’s more of that crap in the letter, about letting me go, letting me live normally and how I’d be better without him.’

‘It was about other people too, people he could kill, but yes you too. Can you imagine what it would do to him if he killed you?’

‘That should be my choice,’ Anders snapped back. ‘I know what he’s done, I knew before now and I didn’t care. Maybe I should have but that’s my choice.’ Ellen put a hand on his arm. It felt like a gust of cold air, Anders thought it was strange how he found that feeling comforting now, so used he had become to Ellen’s affection before his world fell apart. ‘How is he? Is he…’ Anders couldn’t say it. ‘Did the blood, you know, help him? Physically?’

‘A bit,’ she said. ‘For a while. Please, it’s the end of the road for him. He can’t take it anymore, please let him go in peace,’ she pleaded.

‘I could save him, if Axl finds the Frigg and we all get our powers, I could save him,’ Anders said desperately.

Ellen looked at him. He was wearing a grey hoodie and trackies and looked small, standing forlornly in the kitchen with his hair curling wildly because he hadn’t bothered to slick it down. She shook her head.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly. ‘I’m sorry.’

~

**Two weeks later**

‘Anders,’ Colin called, snapping his fingers in Anders’ face. ‘Earth to Anders. Hello, finally.’

‘What?’ Anders snapped.  They were on the terrace of Colin’s large house, lounging by the pool, supposedly planning Colin’s next move in the world of reality television.

‘I was just asking if you’re coming for a spin around the harbour later, now the weather’s better.’

Anders rubbed his eyes. He was thinking about Ellen and Mitchell. Ellen had stayed all evening, he’d wanted to beg her, beg her to take him to Mitchell, stay with him, let him try again. But he hadn’t. he was too proud and too hurt, his broken heart couldn’t take another battering of rejection. Instead they’d watched New Zealand’s version of _Strictly Come Dancing_ and argued good naturedly over who should be eliminated. Since then Anders had got a lump in his throat every time he saw one of the C-list celebrity contestants on the front of a magazine.

She’d vanished into thin air around midnight, they’d hugged for a long time, she told him she loved him and always would then, not being able to speak, Anders had just shook his head, kissed her forehead and tried to hold it together. He managed until he got into bed with fresh sheets and found she’d switched the electric blanket on as it was a cold night. Then he’d sobbed for what seemed like hours.

But he hadn’t shed a tear since. He looked up at Colin and lifted his sunglasses, wincing in the sunlight.

‘Nah, I’ll give it a miss.’

‘Did those girls at my book launch chop your balls off?’ Colin asked, referring to the party to announce Colin’s upcoming autobiography the night Ellen had come.

‘I just don’t fancy it,’ he said.

‘Are you back on cock?’

‘Fuck off, Colin.’

‘I’ll take that as a yes. Well, I just hope it’s a mortal this time and not some freak.’

Anders stood up. ‘You know, you’re a real wanker, Colin,’ he snapped.

‘What? He was a vampire. Do you want some scotch? This is the best scotch. Cost thousands of dollars, forty year old Islay malt, peaty with oaky undertones.’

He poured Anders a glass. Anders swilled it around, sniffing it with interest.

‘Good, isn’t it?’ Colin continued. 

‘It’s ok,’ Anders said, taking a sip.

‘Ok? What is wrong with you? Have you seen your vampire again?’ Colin said with keen interest.

‘No. He’s gone. Forever.’ Anders wondered if he was already gone, through the door with his mother, the person he loved most in the world gone forever. He looked at Colin’s swimming pool wondering how painful if was to drown.

‘Did you stake him?’

‘I’d never do that.’

‘Then, my friend, he is not gone forever. I wish you Johnsons would read up in these things.’

‘On vampires?’

‘On anything. I mean what did you think? You could stop him?’

‘With Bragi, yes,’ Anders snapped back, topping up his glass aggressively.

‘What I don’t understand is why you didn’t use your stick.’

‘My stick? What apart from the fact Michele stole it, used it to heal people for money and now Mike’s found out and they’ve split, guards it with her life?’

‘A barrier I admit.’

‘What can the stupid stick do anyway? It burned him up when he saw it.’

‘You don’t know?’ Colin asked, starting to laugh.

‘Know what?’

‘It’s a well-known fact.’

‘What is? Look either tell me or fuck off with the Loki crap.’

Colin held his hands up in a gesture of appeasement. ‘Yggdrasil can cure an undead demon, a draugr, a vampire.’

‘What?’ Anders said, suddenly snapping to attention.

‘Didn’t you know?’

‘And you didn’t think to mention this before?’ Anders shouted, now losing control. ‘How? How can it cure him?’

Colin shrugged and smiled. ‘You kill a vampire by putting a wooden stake through their heart? Yes? Now put the tree of life through their heart and you kill the vampire but the human host lives.’

‘So you’re saying if I were to stake Mitchell with Yggdrasil he’d be cured?’

‘Yes. I don’t suppose Yggdrasil would be much use afterwards, but who cares about that. Apart from goddess chicks.’

‘Are you fucking about?’ Anders’ heart was racing, he desperately wanted it to be true, wanted there to be a cure within his reach, a way to save Mitchell. But this was Loki.

‘Of course not. I wouldn’t tease you about something as important as this. You loved the creature.’

‘Why are you only telling me this now?’ Anders asked, his voice rising.

‘I told you ages ago.’

‘No you didn’t.’

‘When you arrived back in this country, bringing that demon, the first of his kind to set foot in our pure shores, I sent you a book. I hoped that you’d swiftly deal with it before he contaminated anyone else and I had to get my hands dirty.’

‘What book?’ Anders asked, puzzled and wracking his brains.

‘A book on Norse mythology and demons.’

‘I didn’t get a book.’

‘I sent it with a welcome home card to your flat.’

‘What did it say?’

‘Norrøn mytologi og demoner.’ Colin said casually.

‘Hang on, it was in fucking Norse?’ Anders said, trying very hard to control his temper, aware that Loki was a lot more powerful that Bragi, should things get nasty.

‘Runes actually,’ Colin said casually. ‘A scroll of runes to be exact, like in the old days.’ He poured himself more whisky and shivered. ‘Getting chilly,’ he said smiling, before a patio burner was alive with flames, warming the air and Anders knew, warning him.

‘You sent me instructions about how to save Mitchell on a scroll of runes?’ Anders’ voice was low and dangerous. ‘Fucking runes?’

‘I assumed since the debacle with Hel and Hodr’s marriage you Johnsons would have learned to read runes? You did receive the scroll though?’

‘I thought it was some crap from Olaf!’

‘Olaf? As if that stoned hippy can write in runes.’

Anders ran his hand through his hair, he was furious and elated at the same time. ‘You are such a fucking dick!’ he yelled at Colin. ‘With your Loki shit.’

‘What can I say? I am what I am. I’m Loki.’ As he spoke the swimming pool was briefly lit up in the shape of a rune.

‘What the fuck was that?’

‘A rune.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning love. See, I’m a romantic, Anders Johnson. And you’re a poet, you should appreciate my romantic side.’

‘I really loved him you know?’ Anders said, looking hard at Colin.

‘Tainted love, Anders, tainted love. Gods cannot be with demons. Should have taken my advice.’

‘Fuck you,’ Anders said, slamming his glass down and walking off.

‘Hang on, we haven’t finished planning my next move in the world of television.’

‘You’re dropped, find some other sucker to talk people into giving you a show.’

‘But you’re so persuasive, almost as if you have a gift. Which is why I pay you so well.’

Anders merely gave Colin the finger and carried on walking.

‘This now means we’re enemies!’ Colin called, sending a line of fire towards Anders. Anders turned around and stood his ground.

‘I’ll send my assistant to negotiate the severance package.’

‘Good, Dawn’s prettier than you.’

‘Oh, not Dawn,’ Anders said smiling. ‘No, you go near Dawn and they’ll be an icy visit from Hodr. I’ll be sending my other assistant, Ellen Mitchell.’

‘Who?’

‘The ghost who can send you to hell. Now fuck off.’

And with that Anders walked off, his heart pounding. His anger at Colin was dwarfed by his elation and excitement at the revelation that Mitchell could be saved, by Yggdrasil, his own stick.

~

‘Mike,’ Anders shouted, running into the bar, out of breath. ‘Mike!’

‘What’s up?’ Mike said frowning at the sight of a frantic Anders in front of him. Axl was there too, looking bored, but sat up with interest now.

‘You need to find him, now, before it’s too late. Do your thing, now!’ he urged.

‘What?’

‘Find him!’ Anders shouted, irritated by his slowness.

‘Find who?’ Mike asked.

‘John! Find John. Do your thing, now!’

‘Hang on,’ Mike said, holding his hands up. ‘What’s going on? It’s been six months, you’ve barely mentioned him, let alone asked me to find him. What’s happened?’

‘I’ve found a cure for him, I’ve found a cure!’ Anders cried.

‘What?’ Axl cried. ‘That’s incredible, how? How can you cure him?’

Anders smiled, Axl looked genuinely thrilled for him. ‘Yggdrasil,’ Anders said, still breathless with excitement. ‘All the time it was Yggdrasil, which is my fucking stick!’

‘It’s like it’s fate!’ Axl cried. ‘What do you do with it?’

‘You know how to kill a vampire you have to drive a wooden stake through their heart? Well with Yggdrasil it would just kill the vampire and the human is saved by the tree of life.’

‘That’s amazing!’ Axl said, hugging him. Anders smiled again.

‘Who told you this?’ Mike asked, his face impassive.

‘Colin,’ Anders said. ‘Fucking wanker gave me a scroll written in runes months ago but only told me today what it said. Wanker. So, do your think and then find the stick and we’ll go and get John and cure him!’

‘Loki,’ Mike said slowly. ‘Loki told you this. What exactly did he tell you?’ Anders felt his chest go tight, he could feel it coming, the but, the but that would shatter his dreams.

‘He told me that if you stake a vampire with Yggdrasil they become human again. He asked me why I hadn’t done that straight away. Typical fucking Loki to send the instructions in runes.’

‘Yeah,’ Axl said in agreement. ‘God of tricks. What a twat.’

‘It would also be typical Loki to lie to you about this whole thing. To let you stake Mitchell and for the whole cure to be a lie,’ Mike said slowly, his face betraying his weariness of yet again being the bearer of bad news.

‘You think he’s trying to trick me into killing Mitchell?’ Anders asked, feeling sick at the thought.

‘I don’t know,’ Mike replied. ‘This is Loki though, I wouldn’t put anything past him.’

‘Well we need to find out!’ Anders cried, panic rising. ‘Call Grandpa, he’s the oracle.’

‘Alright, we’ll call Grandpa,’ Mike agreed.

‘And find John anyway. Before it’s too late!’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Find him, do your thing now.’

‘Don’t you think we should find out if this thing has legs first?’ Mike asked. ‘I mean even if Colin is right, you have to get the stick from Michele.’

‘You’re Ullr, you can find anything, I can talk anyone into anything, Axl’s Odin, everyone, including goddess slags, have to do what he says. That’s if you’re on my side. You are on my side, aren’t you?’

‘Of course!’ Axl said immediately.

‘Yes, we’re on your side,’ Mike said. ‘Which is why we’re going to check this thing out before leaping in.’

‘So go on then,’ Anders said, his heart racing.

‘Go on?’

‘Find him! Before it’s too late. Just do your thing.’

‘But there’s things we need to do first.’

‘I need to know he’s still here, Mike, that he’s still in this world.’ Anders voice was shaking as he spoke. Mike finally understood and nodded. Anders watched with his breath held as Mike closed his eyes and took a deep breath. ‘And?’ Anders asked as Mike’s wrinkled his face in surprise.

‘He’s here. He’s just…’

‘Where?’

‘You can’t go tearing after him,’ Mike warned. ‘Not yet anyway.’

‘Just tell me.’

‘He’s in the middle of nowhere in the South Island.’

‘But he’s alive?’

‘Yes. I can’t find people who have passed on, Anders. God, I tried with mum enough, believe me.’

‘Well, Agnetha is gone,’ Anders said dismissively. ‘John is here.’ He was so relieved he could have cried. ‘Right, get Grandpa now, like now this minute, not in Olaf time. Come on, Axl, you’re the All Father, do some godly commanding.’

‘You always call her Agnetha these days, not mum. You were the one who called her mum the most, along with Ty,’ Axl commented, looking at him oddly.

‘What? Shut up and get commanding.’

‘I don’t think you should be telling me to shut up if I’m Odin and you want me to do your bidding. I think you’re meant to beseech me or something.’

‘Oh shut up and ring Olaf,’ Anders snapped, walking behind the bar and helping himself to a beer. ‘Get Ty too, I sort of told Colin to fuck off for good, so Hodr could be useful if he comes looking for revenge.’

‘Oh great,’ Mike sighed. ‘You’ve started another feud with Loki.’

‘I did not, he started it by not telling me how I could save John straight away.’

‘Just shut up both of you,’ Axl said, getting his phone out. ‘We’ll deal with Loki, right now we need an emergency Thing, yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ Anders agreed.

‘Well, you have always helped me with the Frigg hunt, so I guess I owe you some help in your quest to find your beloved too.’ Axl smiled and hugged Anders as he wandered back to sit on a bar stool. Anders slapped his back gratefully, it felt good to be back on best terms with Axl, the brother he’d always got on with the best.

Axl began flicking through his phone when he looked up, frowning.

‘Problem?’ Anders asked.

‘Can I borrow your phone? I’m out of credit,’ Axl said sheepishly as Anders rolled his eyes and handed over his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I need to write some more now, so next update will take a little longer, but thanks for sticking with this looooong story everyone who's still reading. xxx


	33. This Hasn't Been Done For Two Thousand Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Anders get the answers he wants? And in time to save Mitchell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette, enabler and enablee

Mike had shut the bar early and the Johnson brothers and Olaf were sitting around the bar, Olaf having taken over the role of bar tender.

‘So, Colin, who let’s not forget, as if we could, is Loki, told you all this?’ Olaf said after Anders, with interjections from Mike to clarify, had explained what Colin had said about Mitchell being able to be cured with Yggdrasil.

‘Yes, which is why we are asking you, an oracle, if it’s true,’ Anders said. He was on edge and losing his patience fast.

‘So?’ Mike said, also impatient.

‘So, we need to beware of Loki,’ Olaf said. ‘Especially if you’ve just really pissed him off. Have we all got smoke alarms fitted?’

‘Yes, yes, but what about Mitchell?’ Anders cried. ‘And Yggdrasil?’

‘Michele has Yggdrasil and considers it very much her stick,’ Olaf said, shaking his head.

‘Look, she’s just the one exploiting it at the moment,’ Mike snapped. It was a sore point for him. ‘Frankly if that damn stick was used for something else it could only be a good thing.’

‘Yes, but she’s hidden it,’ Olaf said.

‘And I’m Ullr, so moving on,’ Mike snapped.

‘To Mitchell,’ Anders reminded him as Olaf took a long drink from his glass of whisky.

‘I don’t know,’ he said, to a general groan.

‘What not at all?’ Ty cried as Anders put his head in his hands.

‘No.’

‘But you’re an oracle!’ Axl said throwing his hands up.

‘The term oracle is very often confused. It does not mean I know everything, just that I know some things.’

‘Yeah, we bloody noticed that,’ Anders said with uncharacteristic venom towards his grandfather.

‘But,’ Olaf said defensively. ‘I do know someone who would know.’

‘Who?’ Anders snapped.

‘Kvasir,’ Olaf said. Mike, Ty and Axl all groaned.

‘Who’s that?’ Anders asked.

‘God of wisdom, and he is obliged, when a god asks him a question to answer, and he knows everything.’

‘And is a stinking, creepy wino,’ Axl said. ‘Can you find him, Mike?’

‘Yeah,’ Mike said, closing his eyes and concentrating. ‘He’s downtown, wandering around near the Sky Tower.’

‘Then downtown we go,’ Anders said, picking up his car keys.

‘I’ll drive,’ Ty said. ‘You’re in no state.’

‘No, you stay here,’ Olaf said. ‘In case Loki shows up. Axl and Mike should go and fetch Kvasir. Mike can find him, and Axl is Odin, so if he summons him, he has to come. Axl, make sure the first thing you say to him is I, Odin, command you, then summon him here to a meeting of the gods. And remember he can turn himself into liquid, so don’t let him anywhere near a drain, a sink…’

‘Yeah, we’ve got it,’ Mike said.

‘What about me?’ Anders asked.

‘You’re way too wound up. You need to stay here and calm down.’ He saw Anders look of disbelief. ‘With some weed, strong weed, which I think is very much needed tonight.’

‘If it’s a meeting of the gods, shouldn’t it be in the woods?’ Axl asked, looking perplexed.

‘I think the bar will be quicker and a more welcome venue at 9pm on a Friday night,’ Olaf assured.

~

Anders sat at a table staring at his phone, Mike and Axl had gone and he felt useless. Ty was talking in whispers with Olaf and he’d sent a text to Ellen, followed up with an email and message on whatsapp. _I’ve found a cure, Yggdrasil can save John, bring him home immediately._ He had no idea if she still had her phone or if it worked where she was now. She hadn’t left it behind like Mitchell had and he’d not cancelled the contract, but it hadn’t been used. He’d checked with the service provider. Still it was worth a shot.

Ty came to sit next to him and brought him a bottle of beer. ‘How are you?’ Ty asked.

‘Fine,’ Anders lied. Then he saw Ty raise his eyebrows. ‘Well, a little stoned, that was strong weed,’ he said referring to Olaf’s cure for his ills.

‘Really? You don’t mention Mitchell for months, except when you’re drunk out of your mind, and then you’re suddenly running around shouting about how we all have to go on a quest to cure him as he’s the love of your life. Sounds like you’re far from fine.’

‘What’s Dawn said?’ Anders snapped.

‘Nothing, apart from that you tried to Bragi her into forgetting him and never mentioning him.’

‘Good.’

‘Was there something else to mention?’

‘No,’ Anders lied again.

‘Are you sure this is just Colin?’ Ty asked. ‘I mean what’s with the urgency? You were pretty insistent that we find Kvasir tonight and get Yggdrasil tonight.’

‘Ellen came to see me,’ Anders admitted as Olaf joined them, sitting on the opposite side of the table and listening quietly.

‘When?’ Ty asked.

‘A couple of weeks ago, I was so drunk and she looked after me.’

‘And?’

‘We watched TV. And she said he’s not got long, that he’s not…’ Anders took a deep breath. ‘He doesn’t want to go on since the girl died. He wants to go with her through her door.’

‘When will her door come?’ Ty asked gently.

‘She doesn’t know. She said it won’t come because she’s worried about me and doesn’t want to leave me.’

‘You’d become close I guess,’ Ty said.

‘Yeah,’ Anders shrugged. ‘I guess. Kind of got used to her being around, I had to get a bloody cleaner when she left.’

Ty and Olaf exchanged glances, they knew full well that wasn’t what Anders missed about Ellen.

‘There’s a goddess called Elli,’ Olaf said. ‘Goddess of old age.’

‘Well she wasn’t bloody old,’ Anders snapped defensively. ‘She was only 48 when she died. I know her clothes are old, but that’s because she was really poor and you can’t buy a ghost new clothes.’

‘It wasn’t a criticism, Ellen was a friend and a very lovely and very attractive lady,’ Olaf said, trying to placate him.

‘So, time’s running out for him,’ Ty said heavily. ‘I’m sorry, Anders.’

‘It’s going to be ok, I’m going to save him.’ He paused and looked at him both. ‘I know you think I stopped loving him, or never loved him in the first place, because of all the girls. And boys. And working with Colin and generally going out and having a great time instead of staying in and being all tragic. But I did and still do love him.’

‘Anders, we never thought for one minute you were fine,’ Ty said, laughing at the fact Anders seemed to believe he’d fooled them. ‘We’ve all been really worried about you.’

‘Why? I’ve been fine,’ he snapped contrarily.

‘Drinking a bottle of vodka a day and pretending the person you changed your whole life for never existed it not fine.’

‘It’s not like I could forget him anyway. Do you know how many people I shagged trying to find someone who was better?’

‘I’m guessing a lot,’ Ty said, shaking his head.

‘Fucking loads and the stupid fucker was always here,’ he pointed to his head. ‘Smiling at me, reminding me that nothing and nobody would ever be like that. I fucking hate him.’

‘Ah, the pain of love, Anders, the pain of love,’ Olaf said kindly, shaking his head.

‘It’s more I want a decent shag,’ Anders said. Ty shook his head but said nothing.

‘So, what will you do if it turns out Colin was right and you can cure him?’ Olaf asked. ‘Once you’ve cured him I mean, will you pick up where you left off?’

‘Well, Ellen was going to decorate the new house,’ Anders said slowly. He wanted to pretend it wasn’t all that he’d thought about since Colin’s revelation, as if he hadn’t imagined himself in Mitchell’s arms, listening to his human heartbeat and living a normal life.

‘Yeah, but will you get married? Or have you even forgiven him?’

‘Forgiven him?’ Anders asked.

‘For killing someone and taking off,’ Olaf clarified.

‘It’s not his fault,’ Anders said snappishly. ‘He didn’t ask to be a vampire. God, do you have any idea how hard he fought it? What the others are like?’ He folded his arms and scowled at them. ‘And don’t let Ellen hear you say that. Oh, and I would never, ever get married to anyone, especially someone I love.’

‘Right,’ Ty said, keen to change the subject. ‘Um, Dawn wants a baby.’

‘Terrible idea,’ Anders said straight away. ‘Do you see any happy parents? Anyway, it’s far too busy to have a baby, she doesn’t have time. No, sorry, Ty. Just get one of those little dogs women like to keep in their handbags.’

‘I think that’s actual discrimination,’ Olaf mused.

‘On the other hand John is weird and likes babies. I know, Ellen could babysit for you while Dawn’s at work, she’s had loads of experience, she loves babies too. Must be some weird catholic thing they both have going on. Right, I need a slash,’ he said getting up and heading to the toilet.

Ty and Olaf were staring at each other open mouthed. ‘I’m worried about this,’ Ty said. ‘Have you heard him? He completely believes Colin, he’s pinning everything on this and he sounds like he’s even more in love with Mitchell than we thought. He’s got a whole life planned, Anders! Anders, who used to find someone planning two days ahead too much commitment.’

‘Well, they say absence makes the heart grow fonder,’ Olaf said.

‘But what if this does work and Mitchell doesn’t feel the same way?’

‘Ellen said he adored Anders, she said she found Anders a little wearing after a while,’

‘Don’t we all,’ Ty said.

‘Exactly, even Ellen, who thought he was sweet, but there’s only so much Anders anyone can take. But she said Mitchell never finds him like that, she said he just tells him to stop it and he does.’

‘That is true, Dawn said he’s the only person Anders listened to.’

They heard a banging at the door, shortly followed by Mike and Axl coming in with an old man in old clothes between them. Ty wrinkled his nose instinctively, he smelled of cheap alcohol and had the sour odour of someone who didn’t wash as often as they should.

‘Kvasir,’ Olaf said, getting up and extending a hand in greeting. Kvasir grunted and ignored his hand.

‘Baldr, your grandsons have kidnapped me,’ he accused, glaring at Mike and Axl. Axl held his upper arm firmly.

‘Only because you tried to ignore a direct order from Odin,’ Mike snapped.

‘Odin?’ Kvasir said shaking his head. ‘That boy is a just a stupid boy.’

‘And Odin,’ Olaf said.

‘What do you want?’ Kvasir snapped. He shuffled towards a table and sat down grudgingly. He pulled his old green coat around himself and scowled.

‘Get the man a drink,’ Olaf said.

‘I didn’t come here for a pissing drink, what do you want?’ Kvasir repeated. Olaf got him a glass of whisky anyway as Anders emerged from the toilet.

‘You’re Kvasir?’ he said urgently, foregoing any niceties and what would have ordinarily been qualms and comments about his state of dress and general air of malice.

‘Yeah, who the hell are you?’

‘Bragi,’ Anders said.

‘Poets are wankers, now piss off.’ He downed his drink.

‘I have a question for you,’ Anders said, undeterred.

‘You’re a minor god.’

‘He’s still a god,’ Olaf reminded him.

‘I want something for all my troubles,’ Kvasir said, unfolding his arms and appraising Anders with interest. Mike sighed and went to fetch a bottle of spirits, but Anders was there first, throwing down a large handful of bank notes. Kvasir gathered them up, his whole demeanour instantly changing and his face lighting up with glee. He stuffed the money into his pockets then turned to Anders, attentive with an ingratiating smile.

‘Bragi, what wisdom can I bestow upon you?’

‘I want to save a vampire, cure him and make him human,’ Anders said.

‘Yes?’ Kvasir said, inclining his head towards Anders as he sat down opposite him. Olaf came to sit next to Anders and his three brothers stood behind him.

‘You have to ask an actual question, Anders,’ Olaf reminded him.

‘Oh, er ok, right. Ok, can I cure a vampire, as in make a vampire human again with my stick, with Yggdrasil?’

‘Yes,’ Kvasir said.

‘Yes!’ Anders cried, elated, he pumped his fist in the air and hugged Olaf, relief washing over him.

‘Hang on,’ Olaf said, cautious. ‘How can Yggdrasil cure a vampire?’

‘You still have that stick?’ Kvasir asked.

‘Yes, well kind of,’ Anders said. ‘What do I do?’

‘You need to stake the vampire through the heart, with a stake made from Yggdrasil. Now staking a vampire will normally kill it, for good. But stake it with Yggdrasil and you save it.’

‘Will the vampire revert back to being human? Will it be a normal, healthy human being?’ Ty asked.

‘Well, it hasn’t been done for about two thousand years, but yes.’

‘He’ll definitely be human and not about a hundred years old or a ghost or temporary?’ Axl asked.

‘He’ll be human, I just said,’ Kvasir snapped. Anders was almost laughing with relief. He had tears welling in his eyes and Olaf put an arm around him smiling.

‘Are there any tricks? Any downsides, side effects or by products? I mean does a baby in Norway die?’ Olaf asked.

‘Why the fuck would a baby die?’

‘Well, you never told us mortals would forget Ty when he wasn’t a god anymore, so we just want to make sure it doesn’t blow up in our faces again. Will the vampire remember everyone he knew before?’ Olaf asked.

‘Yes,’ Kvasir said, getting grumpy again.

‘Will we remember him?’

‘Yes!’

‘Is there any other trick, any other side effect?’ Olaf asked carefully. ‘Anything at all that we should be aware of before we proceed?’

‘This is a lot of questions,’ Kvasir complained. Anders reached into his pocket, unthinking and pulled out more notes and slapped them on the table. ‘Did you rob a bank?’

‘Do you care?’ Anders asked.

‘Not really.’

‘Then tell us, what else is there?’ Anders asked.

‘There is something. A vampire has technically lost their soul, opinions differ as to how this works in practice, some of the creatures are said to retain nearly all their human qualities, some not at all. But the point is they have already passed over to the other side and their soul technically resides there, it’s just their vampirism that keeps them here. So, in order to be restored to this mortal realm they need to share the soul of another person, in the absence of a willing person they would share the soul of the person who drove Yggdrasil through their heart.’

‘What does sharing a soul mean?’ Anders asked. ‘In practice and could that person be a god?’

‘It means you are bound together for the rest of your lives, immortally bound, so not like being married and getting a quick divorce. And yes, it could be a god.’ Kvasir looked pleased now, as if he’d thrown a spanner in their works. But Anders was smiling.

‘And that’s the only trick?’

‘Yes, but that’s some trick, don’t you think?’

‘That’s fine, no problem.’

‘What, you’re prepared to be bound to this vampire forever?’ Kvasir laughed.

‘Yup,’ Anders said.

‘Do you want to give this some thought?’ Mike asked, a worried look on his face.

‘Thought about it, decided. Not a problem.’ Anders actually looked quite pleased.

‘Are you some kind of poof, you said it was a fella, the vampire?’

‘That’s not very enlightened language,’ Anders said. ‘Right, is that all?’

‘It’s all from me, just do us a favour and get rid of it. I had Loki asking me about vampires a few months ago, if there’s one on the loose here it needs staking, with Yggdrasil or a stick from the woods I don’t care, but don’t let it multiply.’

Anders was already getting up and pulling his jacket on. ‘Come on, Mike, let’s get going,’ he said.

‘What?’ Mike asked, incredulously. ‘It’s past eleven at night.’

‘We need to go now,’ Anders insisted.

‘I’ll be off then,’ Kvasir said, patting his pockets, now full of Anders’ cash. They all mumbled something in the way of goodbye before turning to Anders.

‘You can’t go haring off in the middle of the night on some wild goose chase,’ Mike said.

‘You’re Ullr! It’s never a wild goose chase.’

‘Look, get some rest, we’ll leave first thing, it’s a bloody long way, he’s way past Invercargill.’

‘No, it has to be straight away. Mike, I need to go now, he doesn’t have much time, he’s slipping away. If Ellen’s door comes it’ll be too late.’ Anders was frantic.

‘Are we even all agreed on this?’ Mike asked to Anders’ cries of what.

‘What’s to agree?’ Anders shouted.

‘That we as a family are happy to use Yggdrasil for this?’ Mike said calmly. ‘Ty?’

‘Of course,’ Ty said at once.

‘Olaf?’ Mike asked.

‘I’m on board,’ Olaf said to Anders’ relief.

‘And the Lord Odin?’

‘Yeah,’ Axl said. ‘I mean, Anders did get the stick.’

‘Exactly,’ Anders cried.

‘And he’s our brother and Mitchell’s clearly the love of his life, so I guess we should help him.’

‘Thanks, bro,’ Anders said, but he was looking at Mike. ‘And you?’

‘Me?’ Mike asked.

‘Are you on board? You don’t want to save the stick for Michele?’

‘Of course not,’ Mike said. ‘Of course I’m with you.’

‘Good, then let’s go,’ Anders said.

‘What about the stick?’

‘We need to bring him back here anyway,’ Anders said. ‘Ty and Axl can get the stick while we get John.’

‘Really? Now?’ Mike asked with exasperation. Anders nodded and Mike sighed, giving in.

‘Where’s the stick?’ Ty asked. ‘Shouldn’t we get it first? So you can take it to Mitchell?’

‘Mike?’ Anders asked, as he walked towards the door.

Mike closed his eyes and took a breath. ‘Ingrid has it. Axl,’ Mike said looking up. ‘It’s been under her bed in your flat the whole time.’ He smiled in comprehension. ‘Of course, Ingrid said she’s the guardian. She means she’s the guardian of Yggdrasil.’

Axl let out a whoop and punched the air. ‘Er, where’s Michele?’

Mike concentrated. ‘Also with the stick,’ he sighed.

‘We’ll have to wait until Ingrid’s asleep and Michele’s gone,’ Ty said.

‘No time!’ Anders cried. ‘No, no, we can’t wait. And then she’ll wake and there’ll be a fight and Odin will have to smite her.’ Axl frowned at this, he was afraid of Michele. ‘No. You get the stick when she goes to work tomorrow, we’ll go and get John now. Before it’s too late.’

‘Are you sure?’ Axl said, but liking the idea of getting the stick while Michele was out a lot more than trying to get it from under her nose.

‘Go get the stick, I’ll bring him back, we can’t wait. Go then!’ Anders ordered him.

‘Are you sure?’ Mike asked.

‘Mike, stop complaining and get in the car! We don’t have time to stand here! He could go at any moment.’ Mike held his hands up and muttered something along the lines of ok.

‘Anders,’ Ty said, stepping forward and Mike went to get his jacket and keys. ‘Take care, yeah?’

‘What do you mean?’ Anders asked.

‘Just look after yourself.’

‘Ty,’ Anders said. ‘This is the best thing that’s ever happened. This time tomorrow we’ll be together again and he’ll be human.’ Anders was grinning like a lunatic, he was almost dancing as Ty hugged him briefly.

‘Tomorrow?’ Mike said incredulously. ‘Anders, he’s at the far end of the bloody south island, we’ll be lucky if we’re there by tomorrow.’

‘Well hurry up then, I need to stop at a cash point, I gave all my money to Kvasir,’ Anders said, walking out the door with Mike following somewhat apprehensively in his wake. ‘Oh and bring the phone charger,’ he called over his shoulder at Mike.

Anders stood outside for a moment looking up at the sky, leaning on Mike’s car. He breathed in the damp night air and wondered if Mitchell was looking up at the stars too. He could hardly believe it, in a few hours he’d be able to wrap Mitchell in his arms again and this nightmare would be over.

~

**Near Waikawa, South Island, New Zealand**

Mitchell shuddered involuntarily, Ellen pulled the blanket around him tighter. ‘John,’ she said softly, shaking him again, but he’d not moved for hours. She stroked his hair, which was fanned out on the pillow. He was so dark, his beautiful face hidden under a dark beard and barely any of his deathly pale skin visible.

‘It won’t be long now,’ she whispered. She fidgeted with the phone in her pocket. Since seeing Anders she was no less worried and new promises from her ghost acquaintances to keep an eye on him didn’t reassure her much. But her son was fading fast and she knew in a very short time his need to leave this world would overcome all other fears.

There was no signal in the hut though and she couldn’t help Anders anyway. She was distracted from the thought by Mitchell coughing and lifting his head.

‘You want some water?’ she asked, putting a glass to his lips. He took a small sip and rubbed his eyes. ‘Can I get you anything?’ Ellen said softly, helping him sit up.

‘Cigarette,’ he said quietly. It was all he ever asked for, he’d not eaten for months and was painfully thin. Ellen lit one for him and passed it to him, putting the ashtray on his lap. ‘I dreamed about Anders, I dreamed he cured me and I was human and we were so happy,’ Mitchell said, his voice breaking and tears falling down his face. ‘It was so real, I could feel his arms around me and the sun on my skin.’

‘Oh darling,’ Ellen said, embracing him. ‘It’ll all be over soon, I promise,’ she soothed. ‘Not long now.’


	34. I Can Cure Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders heads off to find Mitchell and retrieve Yggdrasil from the goddesses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette.
> 
> Sorry it's been ages since the last update, I've been really ill so slow writing.

**Highway just north of Wellington**

It was early morning and Olaf had been at the wheel for three hours while Mike slept. It had been nearly one in the morning by the time they’d left, going back for clothes and water, as well as calling at Anders’ flat for sat nav, more money and his phone charger. Finally they’d gone back for Olaf, having realised the length of the journey and that Mike could not possibly drive solidly for nearly twenty four hours and Anders was in no state to drive at all.

Mike yawned from the back seat and Anders passed him a cup of lukewarm coffee they’d brought on their last stop. ‘Did you call the ferry people?’ Mike asked groggily.

‘Yeah, there’s spaces if we get there on time. Leaves at eight,’ Anders replied.

‘How we doing for time? 

‘Fine, but we’ll get on anyway, I can persuade anyone,’ Anders said confidently.

‘Of course.’

‘Are you sure you know where he is?’ Anders asked again. He’d asked this question repeatedly, much to Mike’s annoyance.

‘Yes.’

‘And he’s still there?’

‘Yes,’ Mike said. ‘I can’t track the dead, I can’t track Ellen and I couldn’t find mum when she was a tree.’

‘Right,’ Anders said nodding. Mike was in the back seats, sprawled out and Anders had his elbow on the window, leaning on his hand.

‘Have you thought about what Kvasir said?’ Olaf piped up.

‘Which bit?’ Anders asked.

‘About sharing your soul?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Well have you thought about what it will entail?’

‘It’ll be fine,’ Anders said. ‘I mean if it was awful you’d have told me, right?’

‘It means you’ll be bonded to him. Forever.’

‘So?’

‘You won’t be able to leave him, Anders.’

‘Good, I don’t want to.’

‘It’s a bigger commitment than marriage, I mean you’ve never been big on commitment.’

‘I’ve never been big on anyone before. I mean, let’s face it, he’s way better than anyone else I know.’

‘He’s not exactly perfect,’ Mike chipped in.

‘Am I?’

‘Well, no,’ Mike said.

‘So it’s fine.’

‘What if you get bored?’ Olaf asked.

‘With John?’ Anders scoffed.

‘It can happen.’

‘Trust me it won’t. I mean no offence, but he’s out of this world.’ Anders sighed as he waited for Mike and Olaf to stop rolling their eyes. ‘He is! I mean I have never ever had orgasms like that with anyone else.’

‘Anders, I mean as a person! It’s not all about sex you know!’ Mike cried in exasperation.

‘Speak for yourself.’ Anders stared out the window for a few minutes as they drove on in silence, passing houses in the outskirts of Wellington, eventually Anders spoke. ‘I don’t care what it means,’ he said, biting his lip. ‘As long as it means we’re together.’

‘That’s ok then,’ Mike said, shrugging.

~

The ferry crossing had gone smoothly enough and the scenery of the South Island was mind blowing. Miles and miles of mountains and vistas that would make postcards. Anders didn’t see it. He stared out the window, dozing off from time to time, but growing more and more anxious. They stopped in Christchurch mid-afternoon at a steakhouse, Olaf refusing to go another mile until they’d had a hot meal. Anders watched Mike and Olaf gratefully scoff everything in front of them, but found he didn’t have much appetite. 

The stops were more frequent as the day wore on and they tired. The towns and petrol stations became less frequent and Anders was now glad Mike had forced them to stop at a supermarket in Christchurch to stock up on food and bottled water.

‘Can we find a motel?’ Olaf asked eventually as they sky turned pink and over the mountains to the west.

‘We’re nearly there,’ Anders said. ‘There was a sign, not far to Invercargill.’

‘It’s a bit further than that,’ Mike said.

‘Well, there’s not much further than that,’ Anders said. ‘Why don’t I drive for a bit?’

‘Are you really ok to drive?’ Mike asked, turning to Olaf who had dozed off again.

‘Yeah, pull over. We can’t stop, just direct me once we get off the main road.’

So for the last couple of hours Anders took the wheel, adrenaline fuelling him as Mike directed him, Ullr leading them off the main road onto smaller roads and finally a dirt track with woods on one side and the sea about a hundred meters to the other, the fierce waves audible from the car.

They were all awake now. ‘Are you sure about this road?’ Olaf asked.

‘Yes, keep going,’ Mike said. ‘We’re close, really close.’

Anders’ heart raced at those words and he put his foot down.

‘Steady on!’ Mike cried, ‘turn right, right!’ Anders slammed his foot on the breaks and reversed a few yards before swinging right. ‘Stop!’ Mike yelled suddenly. ‘Stop! We’re here.’

‘Here?’ Anders asked, looked around as he stopped the car.

‘Look, over there,’ Mike pointed at a small log cabin in front of them, its dark wooden walls lit up by the car headlights. Anders looked up, there was a dim glow coming from a small window. He watched as a red curtain twitched and then standing in front of the car suddenly was Ellen, the lights seemed to flood through her, making her look ethereal, her black skirt and white blouse enhancing the effect of her other-worldliness as he took in her appearance.

But then he was flinging the car door open and running into her arms. They hugged and she held him tight.

‘I can cure him,’ Anders kept saying. ‘I’ve come to save him, I can cure him.’

‘What?’ Ellen said, taking his hands and looking at Anders properly. ‘Oh, lovey, you look exhausted. We’ve nothing in to feed you either. What’s all this you’re saying?’

‘I can save him, you remember my stick? I can save him, it can save him, it can make him human. I can make John human again,’ Anders said, he was speaking very fast, full of excitement.

‘Oh god, oh sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph, thank you lord, oh please, really?’

‘Yes, really,’ Anders said, his eyes shining with tears as she fell to her knees, crossing herself and clasping her hands together in prayer.

‘Oh dear lord, our prayers are answered,’ she wept. ‘Thank you, Jesus, thank you,’ she whispered.

‘Hey, thank me, not bloody Jesus,’ Anders said with a smile as he pulled her to her feet and they embraced again and he held her to his chest.

Anders saw him when he looked up, emerging from the door at the side of the hut, flinching at the bright lights of the car headlights. Anders’ mouth fell open, he was a mass of dark hair, eyebrows knitted together, long strands of wavy black hair hanging over his eyes and most dramatically a thick and full jet black beard. But it was him, a red and blue checked shirt hanging off his bony frame, green wool partially covering fingers that were now too thin for his rings.

Anders slowly let go of Ellen and stumbled, half walking, half running towards him. Mitchell let go of the door frame and took a few unsteady steps before Anders reached him and they threw their arms around each other.

~

The main emotion was relief, relief he’d got there in time, relief that after months of aching loneliness and loss Mitchell was back in his arms. He breathed him in, felt his thick hair on his neck as Mitchell buried his face there The next feeling was shock that where his hands used to feel firm muscle over the expanse of his back all he could now feel was bones, ribs, shoulder bones, sticking out, no flesh to cushion them.

‘Are you really here?’ Mitchell asked, his voice shaky. 

‘Yes,’ Anders replied, trying to swallow back the tears in his eyes. ‘I’m here to save you, Yggdrasil can save you. It can make you human.’

Mitchell looked at him, uncomprehending. ‘Am I dead?’ he asked softly, lifting his hand to stroke Anders’ hair back from his face.

‘No, this is real, I’m going to save you. You can be human and we can be together,’ Anders said, failing to stop the tears now as he smiled. Mitchell nodded, before stumbling, unable to support his own weight anymore. Anders caught him, horrified and frightened. ‘Ellen!’ he called. ‘Ellen!’

~

Mitchell was propped up against the pillows of the bed and Anders sat next to him, caressing his hand. Mike, Ellen and Olaf were sat around the bed, having between them and with many interruptions and questions, finally explained how Yggdrasil could make Mitchell human again.

‘Have you got it?’ Mitchell asked. ‘The stick?’ he closed his eyes after speaking, it had taken so much out of him to take it all in and their explanation was punctuated with him thinking he was dreaming or hallucinating.

‘No, we rushed here as soon as we found out,’ Mike said.

‘Well that was silly,’ Ellen said. ‘Why didn’t you bring the stick?’

‘Because Michele has the stick,’ Mike explained. ‘We were worried if we wasted time getting it before we could tell you, well, that you’d be gone.’

‘Anders is here, Ma,’ Mitchell mumbled, confused.

‘I know, lovey,’ Ellen said, leaning forward and stroking his cheek. ‘He’s here to take you home and make you human.’

‘He needs to eat,’ Anders said. He was horrified at Mitchell’s state, he was skin and bone, all Anders could feel when he put his arms around him was jutting angles. ‘John, when did you last eat?’ he spoke softly to Mitchell.

‘Don’t know,’ Mitchell whispered.

‘Can we get him some food? Maybe on the way back?’ Anders said. ‘We could stop at that steak house again. You like steak,’ Ander said, speaking just to Mitchell now. ‘Remember we had that really great steak in York? I loved York, all those old buildings.’

‘You should have gone in the cathedral,’ Mitchell whispered, smiling at the memory.

‘I think I made the right choice,’ Anders said, grinning as he remembered Mitchell walking back to the hotel, telling him to enjoy York Minster and he’d see him in a couple of hours. Anders had stood in the queue for a few minutes before heading back himself and they’d spent the afternoon having sex instead, having quite spectacular sex in fact. ‘Next time we go there you’ll be able to come in with me,’ Anders whispered, stroking Mitchell’s hair. ‘We can travel, go wherever you like. But now we need to get you home so we can fix you.’

Mitchell’s eyes closed and he smiled softly underneath his thick black beard. ‘Ma, I think Anders is here,’ he said. ‘I’m dreaming of him.’

~

They’d argued about when to go back for about half an hour. Anders was all for jumping in the car and leaving straight away. It had been Ellen who’d talked him round in the end, pointing out that they were all too tired to drive and she couldn’t drive and it really would be better to sleep, eat and then go back.

‘It’s nearly seven in the morning,’ she said gently, looking at Anders’ phone. ‘Why don’t we head back onto the road and over towards Catlins National Park, there are hotels and we can sleep, well you can and I can get John to eat something. There’s a nice one by the harbour, I’m sure Bragi can get a nice room,’ she said taking Anders’ hand. ‘John loved his trips to the seaside with you, I think he’d like that. You can rest properly, this bed’s too small for two.’

Anders nodded. ‘Are you going to watch us still?’ Anders asked, running his hands through his hair.

‘Yes, until he’s human again. Anders, he’s in no state for any games!’

Anders shrugged dejectedly. ‘John, you better eat something,’ he muttered as Mitchell lay half asleep in his arms. ‘Need to keep your strength up, my love.’ Anders said it with a wink, but Mitchell opened his eyes and smiled at the endearment, he was now sure it was a dream. Anders would never use that term especially in front of other people.

They ended up with two rooms at the Waikava Harbour View Hotel. Mike and Olaf crashed out straight away in one room, Anders half carried, half dragged Mitchell in and lay him down carefully.

‘Anders is here,’ Mitchell mumbled again, his eyes closed. ‘Ma, Anders has come.’

‘Of course I’m here and I’m never leaving you,’ Anders whispered to him, stroking his thick beard, which was surprisingly soft. ‘When the stick heals you we’ll be bonded for life, Kvasir said your soul is on the other side, so you have to share mine.’

‘You’d do that?’ Mitchell asked. Anders wasn’t sure how much he understood, it was hard to tell as although he was quite lucid when he was awake, every so often he’d ask Ellen if he was hallucinating or dreaming.

‘Of course I would, I love you,’ Anders said, resting his head on the pillow next to Mitchell.

‘After what I did?’

‘Of course I do.’ Anders kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand. ‘The last few months… it’s been fucking hellish, I couldn’t bear to be sober, I couldn’t bear to be alive without you. See, I knew it was a bad idea to fall in love with you.’

Mitchell laughed a little. ‘I love you,’ he said, opening his eyes at last. ‘I’m sorry for everything.’

‘Hey, don’t start with that. Here, look, your mum is back.’

Ellen had appeared with a tray of tea and two bacon rolls. Anders grabbed his and started eating, at last realising how hungry he was. Ellen helped Mitchell sit up and take a few sips of tea.

‘You’re the only person who makes better tea than Annie,’ he smiled, a faraway look in his eyes.

‘What about me?’ Anders asked through a mouthful of bacon.

‘You never make tea,’ Mitchell replied, a smile on his lips. Anders caught his eye and smiled back.

They stayed in the room most of the day, Mike and Olaf went to the bar in the evening to have a couple of beers with Ellen, but Mitchell, although a little stronger, was too weak for that. He and Anders were curled up in bed, arms and legs wrapped around each other and with Mitchell in two jumpers and a hoodie jacket, as well as the duvet, to keep the cold out. He’d got so thin Anders could see every bone, his joints were bulbous and prominent compared to his wasted limbs and it broke Anders heart to see him this way. The thinness in his face was disguised by the beard, but his eyes were sunken and had dark circles under them. He was becoming the living corpse of Jane’s description.

Night came and they slept, Anders didn’t dare let go of Mitchell, who felt unfamiliar in his arms, frail and light. Ellen kept her watch as she had done ever since the night Mitchell had accidently attacked him. But Anders had barely slept for two days and he couldn’t fight the exhaustion any longer.

~

The journey north was long and tiresome, they had to stop more for Mitchell who was weak and lay across the back seats, head in Anders’ lap. Ellen had gone ahead, deciding she would get the flat ready, not trusting one bit the state it would be in or there wouldn’t be evidence of Anders’ other liaisons lying around. They had an overnight stay in Blenheim before taking the ferry and the last torturous hours to Auckland.

Mike watched in astonishment as, after helping carry him up the stairs and into the flat, Ellen helped sit Mitchell on the sofa and lit a cigarette for him.

‘Is that a good idea?’ Mike asked. ‘He can hardly walk.’

‘Oh, he’s already dead,’ she said brightly. ‘I think all this nonsense about smoking is overblown. My John smoked a pipe all day long and it never killed him, he died of liver damage caused by heavy drinking, so you just don’t know what’s around the corner. Anders, there’s peri-peri chicken, lovey and I made you a cheesecake. I’ve been dying to try out some new recipes and as John hasn’t been eating there’s been no point, but I did a food shop and it arrived this morning and there’s cake too, because John needs feeding up. Mike, are you and Olaf staying for dinner? I made plenty.’

‘Ellen, you are a star,’ Olaf said, giving her a little hug. ‘And I agree about smoking.’

Mike and Anders shared a look, before smiling. ‘Thanks,’ Mike said, sitting down gratefully.

The food was good and Ellen kept everyone’s glasses topped up with wine with a glee that made Anders rather suspicious of her intent. It was a good meal and only spoilt when Axl turned up at the end, having answered Mike’s call for a lift, given that he was now over the limit to drive.

‘Why didn’t you bring the stick?’ Anders asked.

‘Well, that’s complicated,’ Axl replied.

‘How so?’ Anders asked, head snapping up. ‘You said on the phone it was all in hand.’

‘Yeah, but something happened,’ Axl said, scratching his head and looking awkward.

‘What?’

‘Michele,’ Axl said wincing. ‘She, um, caught us trying to get the stick and then got a little violent.’

‘Jesus!’ Anders cried. ‘You’re Odin! Couldn’t Ty do his Mr Freezey thing and make her hand it over. I mean, it’s my bloody stick, we only want to borrow it.’

‘Well you’d better talk to her,’ Axl said.

‘Couldn’t you have waited until she was at work?’ Mike asked.

‘She’s been on leave, look, sorry, but it’s much harder than you think.’

‘Well I’ll go and see her,’ Anders said, going to grab his jacket. But then he felt a cool breath of air ghost over his arm as Ellen put her hand on him.

‘Let me come,’ she said, giving him a meaningful look.

‘I should come too,’ Mike said.

‘No, no,’ Anders said. ‘She really hates you, it’ll just wind her up. Just tell us where she is.’

Mike nodded, he understood, even if it meant relinquishing control. ‘She’s at home.’

‘Where’s Ingrid?’ Anders asked.

‘With her,’ Mike said.

‘Oh, well that’ll be ok, Ingrid told me she was the guardian of Yggdrasil and she’s my friend,’ Ellen said cheerfully. ‘She knows I’d do anything to save John.’

‘I think you should take Ty,’ Mike said. ‘To help explain.’

~

‘What do you want?’ Michele asked warily as Anders, Ty and Ellen stood before her in her living room. She had her hands on her hips and stared down at them.

‘We need to borrow Yggdrasil,’ Anders said quickly. ‘It can cure John, so we need it right now.’

‘What?’ Michele snapped. ‘How so?’

‘Apparently if he’s staked through the heart with Yggdrasil he’ll become human again,’ Ty said.

‘So you’d have to make my stick into a stake?’

‘Your stick?’ Anders cried. ‘Who got the bloody stick? That’s my stick and you give it to me now.’

‘Calm down, Anders,’ Ty said, trying to keep things from getting heated. ‘Michele, we just need it for a couple of hours, after that it’s not much use to us, so you can have it back.’

‘Why should I give it to you, trust you with it? Your brother said he’d destroy the stick if he saw it again, so I don’t think I will just let a Johnson walk off with it actually,’ she said, folding her arms.

‘Fucks’ sake!’ Anders cried. ‘That’s bloody Mike! Mike’s not involved in this, this is about saving John.’

‘Why should I care about that? I mean he’s a murderer and you’ve not seen him for six months and from where I was standing it didn’t look like you were missing him much.’

‘Jesus, I love him!’ Anders shouted. ‘Give me the stick or we take it.’

‘And just as the typical gods they are they threaten force,’ Michele said sighing.

‘You’re not a very nice person, are you?’ Ellen said suddenly. She’d been wandering around the room and was examining a CD player on the shelf. ‘He’s only asking to borrow the stick to rescue someone he loves from living hell after all. Rescue my son.’

Michele turned to look at Ellen, wary now and looking a little sheepish.

‘I don’t trust gods,’ Michele said.

‘I’m not a god,’ Ellen replied lightly. ‘And I’ll return your stick so you can make however much money you want from it. You have my word.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ Michele said. ‘And call you in the morning.’

Ellen said nothing for a moment and Anders began to protest. Then the lights flickered and a vase on the coffee table flew onto the floor.

‘Get the stick now,’ Ellen said. Anders stopped shouting and stared at her. She was surrounded by that faint greyish glow he’d seen before. ‘We are not waiting until morning, this is your chance to do something for someone else, to do something that hasn’t been done for two thousand years. To make history.’

‘Are you threatening me?’ Michele asked.

The two women stared at each other, before turning distracted by Ingrid who was wandering down the stairs looking dazed.

‘What’s going on?’ she asked, rubbing her eyes.

‘Nice of you to join us,’ Michele said.

‘Ellen!’ Ingrid cried, smiling and going to hug her friend. She then stepped back from Ellen. ‘Oh, you’re glowing,’ Ingrid exclaimed in a bemused fashion.

‘That’s because this bitch won’t lend us the stick,’ Anders cried. ‘We need the stick.’

‘What? The stick is a sacred object, what do you need it for?’ Ingrid asked, noticing Ty and Anders for the first time.

‘It can save John,’ Ellen said softly. ‘We need it to save my boy.’

‘Oh, well that’s wonderful,’ Ingrid said, grasping Ellen’s hands. ‘You mean make him not a vampire?’

‘We can make him human,’ Anders said. ‘If the bitch with the stick gives it up.’

‘Oh Michele, I really think we should lend it to them.’

‘They’re gods, you know how I feel about gods,’ Michele said resentfully.

‘Oh, but Ellen’s not and Mitchell’s a lovely man.’

‘A murderer, Ingrid.’

‘Because he’s a vampire and this is your chance to heal him. And he’s Anders’ true love, which I think is rather romantic.’

‘Oh please,’ Michele said. ‘Making Anders happy is a good reason not to do something.’

‘Well, I think we should lend them the stick, I am the guardian of Yggdrasil, this isn’t just your decision.’

‘Where’s the stick?’ Ellen asked Ingrid.

‘Oh, in my bedroom,’ Ingrid replied pleasantly. Ellen smiled and vanished.

‘Oh fucking great,’ Michele snapped. ‘Get your shoes on Ingrid, we’re going with them.’ Ingrid looked confused again as Ellen appeared holding Yggdrasil. Michele made an attempt to grab it.

‘I don’t think so,’ Ellen said, vanishing and reappearing at the other end of the room beside Anders. ‘Not until we’re done.’

‘Come on, let’s go,’ Anders said, smiling at Ellen, relief flooding through him.

‘Wait,’ Michele said, pulling on her shoes.

‘Wait? If you want to come use your own car, we’re going to save Mitchell and frankly I don’t think you’re needed,’ Anders snapped.

‘It’s probably best you stay here,’ Ty said to Ingrid. ‘I promise we’ll bring the stick back.’ And with that Ty and Anders headed out the door to join Ellen who was already in the car, holding the stick triumphantly and speaking on her phone.

‘It’s me, lovey,’ she was saying. ‘We have it, we have the stick, not long now, just hold on, we’re coming to save you.’

 

 


	35. Live Your Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have Yggdrasil, they have Mitchell, but will it work?

Mike was in the kitchen using a sharp knife to carve the end of Yggdrasil into a stake. Michele, who had followed along with Ingrid, stood glaring at Mike, with a look that suggested that after the stake had been used on Mitchell she would like to ram it through Mike’s heart too.

‘Have a drink,’ Ellen said sweetly, pouring a large glass of wine for both women.

‘Oh, thank you,’ Ingrid said, taking a large glug. ‘I always find wine helps on these occasions.’

‘The occasion when a god fucking decimates a sacred object?’ Michele asked. Ellen smiled at her and made a plate of canapes fly into her hand.

‘These are the vegetarian ones, there’s meat on the coffee table,’ Ellen said, steely-eyed and holding Michele’s gaze as she made a bottle of vodka fly into her other hand. Ingrid smiled and helped herself while Michele just scowled, but was silenced.

‘I cannot believe you catered this,’ Mike said, shaking his head.

‘I got a huge New World delivery today, I thought we’d have a party afterwards so I got lots of party food,’ Ellen said.

‘Right,’ Mike said, examining the stick. ‘Will that be sharp enough?’ he asked. Ellen picked it up and held her finger to the point.

‘A little sharper, I don’t want to hurt him any more than necessary.’

‘This would be easier if I could cut a bit off,’ Mike complained.

‘Don’t you dare damage that stick any more than you have to,’ Michele snapped.

Mike shook his head and ignored her, before continuing with sharpening the stake.

Ellen went to the bedroom where Mitchell was asleep. Anders was next to him, stroking his bearded cheek gently.

‘Does he understand?’ Ellen asked. ‘What’s about to happen?’

‘He did a few hours ago, now I don’t know,’ Anders said, brow creased in concern.

‘He was worried it was asking too much of you,’ Ellen said quietly.

‘I’m not listening to any more of that crap,’ Anders said dismissively. ‘It’s not like I haven’t thought it through and anyway, it’s not so bad.’

‘I suppose not, but it will change things,’ Ellen said softly.

‘Good, because the last few months have been pretty crappy.’ Anders bent down to kiss Mitchell’s cheek, he didn’t even stir. ‘John, you need to wake up now,’ Anders said, shaking his shoulders. ‘Come on, John, wake up, Mike’s nearly finished sharpening the stake, we can save you.’

Mitchell mumbled and feebly opened his eyes. ‘Stake?’ he whispered.

‘Yggdrasil, remember we talked about how it’s going to save you, we have to put it through your heart and then you’ll be human again.’ He stroked Mitchell’s hair and kissed his forehead. ‘I’ll do it and then we’ll be together forever.’

Mitchell mumbled something and closed his eyes again with a small nod.

‘Anders!’ Mike called from the living room. ‘It’s done, that’s as sharp as it’s going to get.’

‘Well bring it here then,’ Anders called. ‘It’s ready, John,’ Anders whispered in his ear with a small kiss to his bearded cheek.

~

They were all gathered around the bed: Anders, Ellen, Mike, Olaf, Ty, Axl, Michele and Ingrid.  Mitchell writhed in the sheets, crying out in pain.

‘What’s happening?’ Anders asked, panicked.

‘It’s Yggdrasil, it’s a religious artefact,’ Olaf explained. ‘He’s a vampire.’

‘Well, what do we do?’

‘Get on with it,’ Olaf said gravely. Anders nodded and swallowed. He’d rolled up his sleeves and stood over Mitchell, holding the stick, the pointed end hovering over his chest.

‘Um, undo his shirt, he has too many layers on,’ Anders said, starting to sweat. He was feeling utterly sick, terrified it wouldn’t work, that he was about to kill the person he loved most in the world. He could feel the sweat trickling down his neck and knew he was pale.

‘Are you ok?’ Ty asked him as Mitchell cried out as Ellen pulled his short open and helped him out of his grey vest.

‘Yeah,’ Anders lied. He positioned the stick over Mitchell’s chest, straddling him now. Mitchell was so thin, it was painful to see, Anders gritted his teeth and then let out a cry. Mitchell’s eyes were black and his fangs bared, he’d lunged at Anders, snarling.

‘Christ!’ Mike yelled in shock.

‘Pin him down!’ Ellen cried, grabbing his arm. ‘Help me!’

Ty was the first to respond, then Olaf, they grabbed Mitchell’s arms and despite his weakness he was now possessed with the strength of the devil, he was snarling and fighting them, eyes black as night. Anders was shaking.

‘Do it,’ Ellen implored. ‘Look, the stick’s burning him!’ she pointed to a growing red patch of skin on his chest where Anders pointed the stick. ‘He’s fighting it because the vampire knows what you’re going to do, that you’re driving the demon out. So do it! Save him, save him!’

Anders looked around, Michele was watching in awed fascination, Ingrid had covered her mouth and was clutching Michele’s arm. Axl had gone to help Olaf and Ty keep Mitchell pinned down. Finally Anders looked at Mike. Mike met his eyes and they looked at each other, Anders didn’t know why he was looking to Mike, other than that’s what he’d always done, ever since he could remember, he’d sought Mike’s guidance, approval and permission, until he’d rebelled against it of course. But deep down he knew his brother had rarely let him down.

Mike nodded and Anders turned to Mitchell, he focused on the skin of his chest, covered in dark hair, skin now loose over his ribs, his muscles wasted away. He lifted the stake back, remembering the last time he’d plunged a stake into a vampire and how Jane’s beautiful, perfect face had gone grey and cracked into dust. Then he pushed that thought aside as Ellen called again for him to save her son and Anders did it, he plunged the stick into Mitchell’s heart.

There was an almighty scream, from Mitchell, who roared in pain and Anders in horror at what he’d done, at the blood that was spilling around the stake. Mitchell’s body arched off the bed, his head thrown back in cries of agony, Olaf, Axl and Ty were thrown back and Anders slid to the floor, scrambling to kneel beside the bed as his lover, his confidant, his best friend, lay screaming and impaled on a stake, bleeding steadily into the mattress.

Then something happened. Mitchell’s hand whipped to his mouth and Anders saw his fangs go grey, crack and turn to dust.

‘Nooooo!’ Anders screamed. ‘No!’ It couldn’t be happening, Kvasir had promised. But then it stopped and there was a crack in the air like a whip. Anders looked up and the stake, the six-foot stick that was impaled in Mitchell’s chest cracked, it turned a dusty grey and then collapsed like an ashen log in a fire, a dusty coating on Mitchell’s chest.

Anders saw his chest now, there was a scorched mark over his heart, red and shining with rawness, a perfect circle of smooth skin. But very slowly Anders noticed that his emaciated body was changing, the colour was returning to his skin and there was a steady rise and fall of his chest. Hardly daring to move Anders lifted his hand and placed it on Mitchell’s chest, underneath his fingers for the first time ever, he felt Mitchell’s heart beating.

He was about to breathe a sigh of relief when he looked up and saw the door on the far wall, it was the grey wall Mitchell had wanted to repaint but never got round to doing. The door was of dark wood, polished with a brass handle. Anders gasped.

‘No, no,’ Anders moaned.

~

Mitchell stood facing his mother. ‘Is that my door?’ he asked, now realising he’d seen it before.

‘Yes,’ she said nodding. ‘You can go now if you want.’

‘Will you come?’ Mitchell asked, taking her hand. They were standing at the end of the bed, behind the others. Mitchell’s body was lying on the bed, Anders was shaking it and shouting, the others were gathered round, Michele elbowing Axl aside to check the body. But it felt as if they were in a bubble, insulated from everyone else. Anders was now scrambling towards him, but was held back by Olaf, as the gods watched them stand before the door, Anders’ expression anguished, the others’ expressions of awe and shock.

‘I’ll come if you go,’ Ellen answered. ‘But you don’t have to go now, you can stay and live a human life.’

‘With Anders,’ he said softly. ‘Why am I here, why is the door there?’

‘To stay here you have to accept Anders’ soul. Yours is behind that door. Though I don’t think it ever truly left you,’ she added squeezing his hand.

Mitchell nodded. He looked at Anders who was kneeling over his body again, tears falling down his face.

‘I felt his heart beat,’ Anders was crying, still shaking him.

‘Will you stay?’ Mitchell asked his mum, eyeing the door. He could feel, almost hear, them calling for her.

Ellen’s eyes widened, she held his gaze and then looked at Anders and bit her lip.

‘Will you?’ she asked. Mitchell squeezed her hand. ‘I want you to live the life you should have lived, this is a wonderful age, you have someone who loves you, you have a beautiful home, you can live a life of happiness and peace, without the struggles we had. Live your life, my beautiful boy, from the minute I first held you all I have wanted is your happiness.’

Mitchell smiled softly and without speaking he quietly walked to the bed and as the astonished gods parted to let him through, he lay down, sinking into his now human body.  Ellen watching smiling and with one last look at the door, she turned and sat on the bed beside him, not even noticing that the door had disappeared.

~

Mitchell coughed, then rubbed his eyes. ‘Anders?’ he croaked.

Anders was laughing, he was euphoric. ‘You bastard, I thought you were dead,’ he said, tears streaming down his cheeks, before pulling Mitchell into a tight hug.

‘Be careful!’ Michele cried. ‘I need to check him over.’

Anders pulled back. ‘How are you? How do you feel?’

Mitchell considered. He felt different, lighter, he looked at his arms, back to normal, a light tan on his forearms. Then he noticed his tattoos were gone, he examined his chest, apart from the wound over his heart there was a scar just above his left hip, where he’d caught himself on a piece of barbed wire a few days before meeting Herrick in the woods. He was exactly as he was when he had first died he realised. His body was as it had been in 1917.

‘Are my cigarettes over there?’ Mitchell asked lightly, still looking at his arms. Ellen smiled and passed him the packet holding out a lighter for him.

‘A new lease of life and the first thing you do is smoke?’ Michele said. ‘After you fucking destroyed my stick too?’

Mitchell looked up and her. ‘Er, sorry about that.’

‘You will be,’ she said, but not sounding as angry as Anders had expected. He suspected she was rather more awed and impressed with the whole thing that she would let on.

‘It wasn’t of this world,’ Olaf said gently to her. ‘Yggdrasil isn’t for the mortal realm, it’s for the best.’

‘He’s right,’ Ingrid said gently to Michele.

‘He destroyed my fucking stick!’ she cried again. Then she turned to Mitchell who was sitting up and lighting a cigarette. ‘Put that out!’ she snapped. ‘Doctor’s orders. I want to check you out before you do anything, especially start smoking.’

Anders looked at Michele, then Mitchell, before laughing and pulling Mitchell into another hug.

~

Michele’s examination had been thorough, if a little rough. She had declared him to be a healthy, normal human as far as she could tell before stalking off with Ingrid in tow, ordering Mitchell to come to the hospital for further tests in a couple of days. Anders’ family had drifted away too, it was now the early hours of the morning and dawn was breaking. Anders was exhausted, the adrenalin was finally wearing off and a bone aching exhaustion was setting in. He and Ellen were sitting either side of Mitchell on the sofa as Mitchell picked at the food Ellen had prepared which seemed to be on plates on every surface, between cigarettes.

‘Ma, were you having a party?’ Mitchell asked, putting a smoked salmon vol-au-vent in his mouth.

‘I was just catering for everyone, lovey, we’ve come a long way from tea and a slice of bread and jam you know, there’s wonderful things you can buy now, with three types of pastry, filo, shortcrust and puff pastry and you don’t have to make any of it. How do you feel?’

‘I feel great,’ Mitchell said, smiling. ‘I can’t believe it, it doesn’t feel real yet.’ He sat silently for a few moments, stroking Anders’ hair as he rested his head on Mitchell’s shoulder, exhausted. He’d caught one glimpse of himself in a mirror when Michele had held one over him to examine him. He’d flinched. He’d forgotten what he looked like.

‘I’ll make a roast dinner tomorrow, you need feeding up,’ she continued. ‘And we can have a big party to thank Anders’ lovely brothers for helping and I’m going to make a cake, a really big one, like a wedding cake.’

‘A wedding cake?’

‘Well, you know, to celebrate, although if you want a wedding cake…’

‘No, Ma, I don’t want a wedding cake,’ Mitchell said, laughing as Anders made a startled squeak into his shoulder where he lay half asleep.

‘Men can now, you know, not in church of course, but you can do it legally and still be a lay member of the church. Oh, it’s Sunday tomorrow and I checked the times of that church a couple of blocks away, Mass is at ten-thirty.’

‘Ma, I’m not going to Mass.’

‘John! You’ve not been to Mass in nearly a century!’ she cried.

‘I think my beliefs have changed,’ he said. ‘Haven’t yours? Anyway, you don’t go.’

‘ _I’m dead_ ,’ she retorted. ‘Not an excuse you have any more.’

Anders lifted his head. ‘Your basic choice is go to Mass and worship some dude who’s been dead two thousand years or stay in bed and worship your very own personal god.’

Ellen let out a huff of annoyance. ‘Anders saved me,’ Mitchell said, grinning. ‘I’ll worship him.’

‘He just means have sex, you know,’ Ellen said.

‘Ma!’

‘Anyway, lovey, you two should get to bed, Anders is dropping off on your shoulder, not everyone was renewed with the stick of life tonight.’

Mitchell smiled again and kissed her on the cheek. ‘What will you do while we’re sleeping?’

‘I might go and read the estate agent’s records to see when we can get your new house back from the tenants and then I’ll go to the beach, I know Anders will want some time alone with you in the morning.’

Mitchell blushed. ‘Er, thanks,’ he said.

‘How do you feel?’ Ellen asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

‘Fine,’ Mitchell said. ‘I feel fine, lighter maybe, but it’s not really sunk in you know?’

‘Get to bed then, lovey,’ she said, kissing is forehead as she stood up and squeezing Anders’ shoulder before vanishing into thin air.

~

Mitchell supposed he must have slept because he woke with Anders’ head on his chest, he lay watching him for ages, his blonde hair tousled and face covered in days’ worth of stubble. He stroked his own beard, which was thick and full and wondered if he’d have time to shave it off before Anders woke. But he couldn’t pull himself away from Anders’ warm embrace.

Mitchell examined the scorched red mark on his chest. He ran his fingers over it, it was a little tender but not painful. He wondered if it would heal in time or remain a permanent reminder of what he had been. Then he put his hand over his heart, felt it beating and smiled. His nightmare was over, he was human.

Mitchell pinched himself hard on the forearm at the thought and then tears filled his eyes, it was unbelievable. He was human after nearly one hundred years as the living dead.

Mitchell’s hazy contemplation of his new humanity in the dawn light was broken by his need for coffee, carefully untangling himself from Anders he got up and headed to the bathroom. He was washing his hands when he saw himself properly for the first time. He’d purposely avoided the mirror last night, wanting to go to bed and hold his exhausted lover. Now there was no avoiding it.

He stood in shock, the tap was running but he was frozen. He frowned, he’d not realised he was so dark, or that his eyebrows were so severe. This mirror was huge and his reflection perfect, not like the small, slightly tarnished mirror his mother had at home in Ireland. He parted his lips, his beard would have to go, Anders would never fancy him like this he thought. And the hair, had he thought it looked good? He picked up a strand pulling it straight, remembering how he’d loathed his curly hair as a young man. And then there was his chest, had he always been that hairy? It didn’t look so much when he glanced down at his torso, but now he could see how dark and hairy he was. He scowled again.

His thoughts fell to Jane as he examined himself, she’d told him he was beautiful, had she ever seen how beautiful she was? She’d been film star beautiful, had the sort of face that stopped men in their tracks and made people turn their heads in the street. He wondered how he’d ever managed to attract her as he looked at himself. Then he saw himself with Jane, as he looked now, he had always imagined himself to look different to the man he’d been. Now he saw himself he couldn’t do that anymore.

Mitchell suddenly felt sick, he had broken out in a cold sweat. This was the face that hundreds of people had seen before they died. The last terrible image in their minds. He whipped around, grabbing a towel and hastily hanging it over the mirror, knocking bottles off the counter above the sink as he did so. He finally leaned over the sink, taking deep breaths, trying to fight the sick feeling. He splashed his face with water, then turned off the tap and dried his hands.

Mitchell made coffee feeling more sombre that at any moment since Anders had brought him back. For the first time it occurred to him that escaping his former life would not be as simple as he’d believed when he wrapped his arms around Anders last night as he’d fallen asleep.

~

It was the kisses that woke Anders, on his cheek, his neck, his chest, then finally his mouth. He felt the soft brush of Mitchell’s beard against his skin, the hot wetness of his mouth and moaned happily, rolling onto his back and wrapping his arms and legs around him as Mitchell rolled on top of him.

‘Morning,’ Mitchell whispered, kissing behind his ear and running a hand over his chest.

‘Morning,’ Anders replied, moaning as Mitchell grinned and started kissing down his chest, stopping to lick and suck at each nipple before kissing down his stomach. Mitchell teased Anders, kissing every part of his navel, ignoring his pleas and leaving his weeping cock untouched. Finally Mitchell licked the tip.

‘God,’ Anders groaned. ‘I’ve been dreaming of feeling your beard on my cock since I saw you the other day.’

Mitchell laughed and took Anders firmly in his grip, rubbing his cock lightly along his cheek. ‘That was your first thought when you saw me in the hut?’

‘Well, third or fourth at least,’ Anders said, before letting out a series of soft sights and Mitchell continued to stroke his cock along his cheek and kiss it.

‘So, I should be worshipping you,’ Mitchell said, his grin a mile wide as he rolled Anders’ balls in his other hand. ‘As I’m skipping Mass.’

‘Yeah,’ Anders agreed. ‘What about you start sucking my cock now?’

‘Mmmmm, you’re very demanding this morning,’ Mitchell said, before taking the head in his mouth and swirling his tongue around. ‘What do I get out of that?’

‘You love sucking my cock,’ Anders said.

‘This is true.’

‘And you can fuck me afterwards.’

‘I was intending to fuck you anyway. Anything else?’

‘My spunk over your beard.’

Mitchell pulled off his cock and sat up a bit, lifting one of Anders’ legs, before swiftly spanking the buttock underneath. ‘Filthy little god,’ Mitchell growled, before bending down and taking Anders’ cock in his mouth properly.

Anders did get his wishes, all of them and when Mitchell fucked him he felt a release he hadn’t had in months, it was what he’d been chasing and never found. That perfect high of totally giving himself over to someone, trusting someone to fuck him hard and make it good, wanting it to be just as good for them, not because of pride or ego, but because he loved them and their happiness was his own, their pleasure was his own.

They lay together afterwards kissing lazily between sips of coffee.

‘There’s still some in that bit,’ Anders said in a pleased voice, pointing to Mitchell’s cheek.

‘I’ll have to shave it off now,’ Mitchell laughed.

‘I like it,’ Anders said, kissing his cheek.

‘The beard? I look mental.’

‘You look sexy with it,’ Anders said. ‘And why is there a towel over the mirror by the way? If I was you I’d be staring at myself for hours and wanking.’

Mitchell wrinkled his nose. ‘Anders!’

‘I would, you’re gorgeous. Were you saving yourself for me?’

Mitchell kissed him playfully. ‘It’s just weird,’ he said, not wanting to spoil Anders’ happy mood. ‘I’ve not seen myself for nearly a century. I’d forgotten how weird and hairy I am.’

Anders threw his head back and laughed. ‘You? You’re beautiful,’ he said, looking at him with a warmth and affection that made Mitchell’s heart skip. ‘Come here.’ He pulled Mitchell on top of him again and spread his legs. ‘I’m still open,’ Anders whispered, drawing him in for a kiss.

Mitchell easily forgot the mirror as he slid between Anders’ legs, kissing him and then sliding his cock in again, grabbing a fist full of Anders’ hair as he thrust into him. It was easy to feel beautiful when Anders wanted him and was moaning beneath him, telling him he was loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Lancette, the last bit was inspired by much talk about beards since May. :p
> 
> This isn't quite the end, but getting close, thank you to everyone who has stuck with this long story!


	36. Baths, Beds and Instagram

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, mainly. And sex. And Instagram

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lancette. This story is almost over now, a few loose ends to tie up, thanks for sticking with it.

Mitchell lay on the bed smiling, Anders was in the shower and he was warm, it was spring and the sun poured through the windows. He rolled over and reached for a cigarette, lighting it and then lying back, taking a deep drag.

The week had been incredible, unbelievable. It hadn’t sunk it yet, not really. The feeling of sun on his skin, the steady beating in his chest and the complete absence of the hunger that had owned him for almost one hundred years. He picked up his phone and scrolled through his messages, there was one from Dawn asking about Anders’ whereabouts.

Mitchell felt sorry for Dawn, Anders had walked out with no explanation to find Mitchell and then spent the following week glued to him. Mitchell knew Anders needed him, needed him close both physically and emotionally and after what he’d done for him he couldn’t refuse that need. This had however resulted in spending most of each day kissing and cuddling his lover. Mitchell smiled, he would never get enough of that, but it had tested Dawn’s patience, especially when he let Anders drag him into the toilet for noisy sex after returning from the barbers with short hair and a clean shaven face.

Mitchell stroked his face, there was stubble on it now, but soon he would shave. The large mirror taking up the whole wall above the sink was gone; Mitchell had felt almost dizzy and sick looking at it. He’d painted over it so now it was just another grey wall.  Anders hadn’t been happy, especially as Mitchell had replaced it with a small shaving mirror. But that was better, he didn’t like seeing his whole face at one time, it was odd and unnatural and something he had never known, the house he had grown up in possessing a solitary small mirror.

He wasn’t overly keen on being photographed either. This hadn’t deterred Anders however, who merrily filmed and photographed as much as he could. Mitchell was now the subject of an Instagram account @myhotboyfriend and was fighting a losing battle against Anders’ pornographic fantasies.

Michele had carried out every test known to man on him, she was most startled that he had no sign of having been a smoker at all, she said he had the lungs of a newborn despite having a heavy habit long before he was turned. The cut on his hip was healing well, better than it had in the trenches of Flanders.

And his mother was happy, truly happy. She had brought him a suit and taken a photograph of him and Anders in it, which was now framed and had pride of place beside the television. She was ploughing ahead with their move to the beautiful house they’d bought all those months ago, though he didn’t entirely trust she wasn’t using nefarious means to hurry the tenants out.

Mitchell put out his cigarette as Anders wandered through from the shower and grinned.

‘Hello,’ he grinned, pulling back the covers and parting his legs suggestively.

‘Wow, you are pleased to see me,’ Anders smirked in response, dropping his towel to the floor and happily jumping on top of Mitchell, kissing him. Mitchell ran his hands up Anders sides.

‘You’re beautiful, you know,’ Mitchell whispered, kissing along his neck.

‘You have told me,’ Anders grinned. Anders glowed these days, he was happier than Mitchell had ever seen him, especially when they lay in each other’s arms. Mitchell knew that contentment too, ever since Yggdrasil had sealed them together with a soul bond they had both only truly been comfortable when close together, there was an aching emptiness when they were apart, it felt wrong and unnatural and Mitchell craved him, felt a flood of relief when they were reunited.

‘You’re very beautiful,’ Mitchell breathed as he kissed Anders. ‘So gorgeous, baby.’

‘And a little sore,’ Anders laughed. ‘You’ve fucked me twice already today.’

‘Baby,’ Mitchell soothed, feeling bad about this. ‘Sorry, baby, was I too rough?’

‘No, but maybe do something else?’

‘Of course, got to save you so I can fuck you again later,’ he whispered, rolling them over and kissing down Anders’ body.

‘Can I just get my phone?’ Anders asked, running his fingers through the now short curls on the top of Mitchell’s head, back to the silky stubble at the nape of his neck.

‘What? I’m about to blow you,’ Mitchell said, brow furrowed.

‘Exactly, I want to film it, your lips around my cock is top wank material.’

‘Oh my god, you’re serious aren’t you?’

‘Of course, I’d love to get a nice video of you sucking me off. I want a come shot too, you look so sexy when it’s all over your lips.’

‘No, absolutely not.’

‘What?’ Anders cried incredulously.

‘No way!’ Mitchell said emphatically. ‘I am letting you film me blowing you, end of. And while we’re at it we’re not filming me shagging you, you shagging me, you using toys on me or anything else.’

‘Are you serious?’ Anders smirked, sure it was a joke.

‘Of course! I mean someone might see, you’re always handing your phone to people and showing them pictures of me, they could scroll through.’

‘No, see I put ones of you naked in a special folder.’

‘And I would see.’

‘Exactly, and get horny!’

‘I’d be mortified! No.’

‘Oh come on, this is a joke right?’

‘No!’

Mitchell was still half way down Anders’ naked body when there was a knock and Ellen was pushing the door open.

‘Oh for goodness sake, I thought you’d be done now, you’ve been at it all morning,’ she sighed. ‘Call me when you’re done,’ she added backing out as Mitchell went scarlet.

‘Well, that killed the moment,’ Mitchell said, getting up and heading to the shower as Anders flopped back letting out a huff.

Anders was sitting at the kitchen table with Ellen when Mitchell had showered, he went to make himself a coffee listening to their chatter.

‘I just sent you that picture of him at the pub last night,’ Anders said to Ellen. ‘The one where he doesn’t know I’m taking it and his eyes are half closed but he looks like a god.’

‘Oh it’s a lovely picture,’ Ellen cooed, checking her phone. ‘He’s so photogenic, like a movie star. My sister always said he could have gone to Hollywood.’

‘I was in Casablanca,’ Mitchell said.

‘Oh but as a leading man, lovey,’ Ellen said. ‘Auntie Polly thought you should be in the talking films too.’

‘I knocked over a chair,’ Mitchell said with a smile.

‘Maybe you could be an actor?’ Anders said, musing. ‘I have contacts.’

‘I don’t think so, I don’t like being filmed, photographed or stared at.’

‘Oh, maybe not then. Hey, Ells, if you’d had cameras in your day would you have filmed yourself having sex?’

Mitchell spat out the coffee he had in his mouth and began to cough. ‘Anders!’ he gasped, a blush spreading from his cheeks to his neck.

‘Um, I’m not sure,’ Ellen said in reply, ignoring Mitchell’s horror. ‘You know, I think I would have. I’d have done anything for my Jack and he would have loved that.’

‘See, I knew it was just John who was weird and repressed.’

‘I am not… look can we not talk to my mother about this please?’

‘I’m not, I’m just asked her a question. Ells, why do you sometimes call him John and sometimes Jack?’

‘Well, John is his real name, but everyone called him Jack, but I sometimes called him John to be different then when little John came along I called him Jack again, but some people called him Mitchell, like they call little John Mitchell.’

‘Right,’ Anders said, not following her.

‘But Jack wasn’t like your John.’

‘Did he like photographs?’

‘You didn’t like or dislike them then, he was very handsome though, he’d have been on all those dating apps if he was around now. He was very naughty.’ She smiled to herself. ‘Yes, I’m sure he’d have filmed me, he always said he wished he was a painter and he could paint me like the naked ladies in the art galleries in Dublin and he said I was prettier than any of them, and,’ she leaned in to whisper to Anders. ‘I had better breasts in those days he said.’

Anders burst out laughing. ‘Oh god, please stop!’ Mitchell cried. ‘Ma, have you chosen wallpaper for the living room?’

‘We’re painting it, lovey, you have some very old fashioned ideas. I’ve made an appointment with an interior designer, I’m going to be there so I can instruct you and Anders on what to say.’

‘Er, won’t that be a little awkward?’ Mitchell asked raising his eyebrow.

‘I don’t think so, you’re very stuck in the 1980s if you don’t mind me saying so.’

‘The eighties?’

‘Yes, and too many dark colours, you’re not a vampire anymore it doesn’t need to be gothic, and Anders doesn’t like this sort of thing so he said I should sort it all out.’

‘Oh, ok,’ Mitchell shrugged.

‘I think we’ll import Scandinavian furniture, not IKEA, darling, don’t worry. I think a clean modern look it best, lots of light and muted tones, nothing loud.’

Mitchell smiled, then sat back as Anders and Ellen started talking about the cost of importing and complaining about the weakness of the New Zealand dollar. His mother was quick, her mind sharp and enquiring, always absorbing everything, there was very little bafflement at the modern world from Ellen, she loved it all, it was an endless parade of fascination and delight.

And there was Anders, Mitchell put his arm around him as he chatted and laughed with Ellen. He could never have imagined they’d be friends like this, he’d hoped for toleration at best, but never dreamed they’d become so close or so fond of one another. It made him shudder to think of Anders alone for all those months. He leaned over and kissed Anders at the thought.

‘What’s that for?’ Anders said, pleased.

‘Being you,’ he said finally feeling something which he thought might be peace.

~

Anders knelt at the foot of the bed, his hands bound in silken ropes, leaning on the bed, burying his face in the quilt. There was a sheen of sweat over his skin and he was repeatedly pushed forward as Mitchell fucked him hard. There was a hand in his hair, roughly pulling and another periodically slapped his buttocks. Anders whimpered repeatedly, it was so hard, he didn’t know if he could take it, he was being held up by Mitchell’s forceful hand and tears were leaking out the side of his eyes.

But it was so good, he was lost in that delicious headspace where the real world - Loki’s threats to his business, Mitchell’s nightmares, Dawn’s odd behaviour and his brother’s quest - ceased to exist and all that mattered was Mitchell. Mitchell was completely in control, he would take care of everything, take care of Anders and make him feel so good. He’d chased this feeling all the time they were apart, but this was something you could only feel with someone you trusted, someone who loved you.

Mitchell’s hand was around his cock now, finally giving him some relief. Anders whimpered again, trying to beg, trying to tell Mitchell he wanted to come, but he’d lost the power to form words. Mitchell leaned down and kissed his neck.

‘Come for me, you little cock slut,’ he growled, his kisses turning to bites as he stroked Anders faster. Anders gasped, he could feel Mitchell’s thrusts becoming erratic, knew he was about to come too. He let go and gave in to the wave pleasure, enjoying the prolonged and intense orgasm that came when he was being fucked and had let go of all inhibition and conscious thought.

He barely noticed the pain in his shoulder as Mitchell bit down, his cry muffled in Anders’ flesh. Anders could feel Mitchell come, squeezed around him and hoped his lover had felt as good as he did.

Anders was aware his shoulder was bleeding when he felt the wetness trickling down his shoulder blade. Mitchell was kissing and licking at it, still thrusting slightly, holding Anders by the waist, supporting him. Then Anders felt him seal his mouth around the wound and suck, before going back to kissing and licking up the final drops of blood. It was a shallow wound, with no fangs there was only so much damage his teeth could do.

After he pulled out Mitchell gently untied the ropes and stroked Anders’ wrists. He lifted Anders onto the bed and wrapped his arms around him, kissing him, stroking him, telling him he loved him and how beautiful he was. Anders mumbled endearments in return, rested his head again the heartbeat, which still felt like a novelty, and dozed off.

When Anders woke there was a familiar pall of cigarette smoke beside Mitchell, who was sitting up in bed, Anders yawned and watched him light a new cigarette with the stub of the last, before grinding the old one out in an ashtray on the bedside table. He was shaking and took a deep drag, trying to steady himself. Anders sat up quickly, full of concern, especially when he noticed Mitchell’s red eyes and blotchy cheeks.

‘What’s up?’ Anders asked, putting his arms around him.

Mitchell tapped the ash off his cigarette and then sniffed, rubbing his face.

‘I hurt you,’ he said, his voice almost a whisper, his eyes lowered in shame. ‘You have a huge bruise on your shoulder where I bit you, a bite mark and I drew blood. Then I licked it up and sucked and god, I treat you like that then mark you… I’m still a monster. I’m so sorry.’

‘Hey, John, look at me.’ Anders cupped his face, stroked his tear stained face with his thumbs and kissed his forehead. ‘John, I loved it, I love that.’

‘I shouldn’t want to hurt you, get pleasure from hurting the person I love. I’m supposed to be cured of all that.’

‘So you enjoyed it?’

‘I loved it,’ Mitchell whispered, lowering his eyes again. ‘I loved every second of you at my mercy, I wanted to go even further, I wanted to punish you more and drag it out.’

Anders let out a small laugh. ‘Well thank god for that,’ he smiled, tilting Mitchell’s face so he looked at him. ‘I was so worried you wouldn’t want to do that anymore, that it was just the vampire and we’d only have vanilla sex with the lights off. We can go way further than that, way further. What do you want to do to me, I’ll warn you talking about it will make me hard so you’ll have to suck me off.’

‘But I love you,’ Mitchell said, as Anders put his cigarette out and pulled him down, holding him close.

‘And because you love me you make me feel so good. Look, when we were apart I fucked loads of people, and I could never even get close to how I feel when you do that. I tried, but I didn’t trust anyone, it wasn’t right, I couldn’t tell them what I wanted them to do.’

Anders noted the flash of darkness over Mitchell’s features when he mentioned fucking other people, he was sure for a moment his irises had turned entirely black.

‘To be honest,’ Anders continued. ‘I was worried at first, I mean we had nice sex, but I’ve been desperate for that for so long, I need it, I need you to do that to me.’ He looked at Mitchell’s unsure face and sighed. ‘Look, I feel a peace when you do that, Bragi shuts up, I don’t have all that god shit buzzing around my mind, I don’t have to worry about the business or anything.’

Mitchell nodded and gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I just get freaked out by what I’ve done. I don’t want to be that person anymore.’

‘You’re not and never were, it was the vampire. This is different. Loads of people like kinky sex. I do and I’m perfectly normal.’

Mitchell smiled at that. ‘There’s a darkness in me though,’ he said. ‘It haunts me, I see their faces and what I did and I feel sick. I wake up and I can smell them and taste them and the worst thing is that in my dreams I’m still enjoying it.’ He shuddered in Anders’ arms.

‘Let me use Bragi, let me help you. I can make all that go away.’

‘No, I should feel it, I deserve to suffer. I took their lives, Anders. I’ve been given a life I don’t deserve, I should feel what I’ve done.’

Anders sighed, it was the same every time. The only thing Mitchell allowed was Bragi to lull him back to sleep after a nightmare and that only after Anders complained it kept him awake otherwise.

‘Will you bath me?’ Anders asked, trying to change the subject. It was something Mitchell liked to do after, Anders couldn’t wait until they moved and they had a huge bath big enough for two. Mitchell nodded and kissed Anders softly before getting up to run the bath.

Mitchell was both gentle and thorough, he soaped Anders everywhere, taking time and care on each limb. He kneeled over the side of the bath tub smiling as Anders lay back blissfully as Mitchell ran a soapy hand over his chest.

‘I love how your chest hair goes curly,’ Mitchell said with a soft smile as he gazed adoringly at Anders. ‘And I love your dimples,’ he continued as Anders smiled. ‘And your lovely lips.’

‘You’re so soppy.’

‘You’re so soapy.’ Mitchell splashed him playfully. ‘Come on, mum keeps calling us, apparently we’re going to be late.’

‘Do we have to go to this stupid party? I hate Axl’s house, it stinks.’

‘It’ll be nice to see everyone and Zeb was very keen we come,’ Mitchell replied.

‘That’s only because he likes having a ghost around, it’s the novelty. Gods are so last year for him now.’

Mitchell laughed. ‘You’ll always be my favourite supernatural being.’

‘Supernatural? Fuck off! I’m a god, a god! And with that thought in mind, fancy a bit of worship? Of my godly cock with your mouth?’ Anders grinned smugly as he got up and grabbed a towel, he rubbed himself down quickly as Mitchell remained on his knees. Then Anders closed the lid of the toilet and sat down, opened his legs and met Mitchell’s eyes. ‘Come on then,’ he grinned.

Mitchell was breathing heavily, want coursing through him. He would make Anders pay for this show of cockiness, but not now, after the party. For now he was opening his mouth and wrapping his lips around Anders’ cock.

~

Mitchell was happy at Axl and Zeb’s party. Anders was complaining about stuff, Axl’s mates, cheap beer, bad music, but squashed up next to Mitchell on the sofa he was really happy enough. Until Axl let out a whoop of laughter and clutched his phone, leaning on the kitchen counter for support.

‘What is it?’ Zeb asked, before breaking into a broad grin as Axl wordlessly handed him the phone. ‘Oh wow, this is quite sweet really,’ Zeb chuckled. ‘Have your brothers seen this?’

‘They will now. Hey, Mike!’ Axl called. ‘Check a load of this.’ Still laughing he passed his phone to Mike who was sitting at the table with Olaf, beer in hand.

‘What am I looking at?’ Mike asked quizzically.

‘Oh sorry, the app shut,’ Axl said, fiddling with his phone. ‘There you go. My hot boyfriend.’

Zeb was now scrolling through his own phone laughing softly. Mike’s face was curious and then he began to laugh too.

‘Baby?’ Mike mouthed. ‘Who wrote this crap?’

‘Anders at a guess,’ Axl sniggered. ‘Oh god, that one is brilliant, _I wonder what he’s thinking behind those gorgeous eyes?_ ’

‘ _Miss my baby’s beard, it was so soft and lovely to play with,_ ‘Mike read out with an expression on his face which was a mixture of horror and amusement.

‘Hang on, what’s Instagram?’ Olaf asked.

‘Picture site for young people, Grandpa,’ Axl said. ‘Anders has made a soppy page for Mitchell where he calls him baby all the time. Ohhh, look, _baby before he’s had his coffee, still gorgeous.’_

They all turned and looked at Anders and Mitchell, they were sat on the sofa deep in conversation and oblivious to all others, Anders was almost in Mitchell’s lap and Mitchell had a possessive hand on his hip.

‘Hey, Anders, didn’t know you were into Instagram?’ Axl called.

‘What?’ Anders said, looking up.

‘We’ve found your account about Mitchell, I think it’s romantic,’ Zeb said, smiling.

‘What account?’ Mitchell asked, looking confused.

‘My hot boyfriend: best moments of the hottest guy in the world, AKA my beautiful boyfriend,’ Axl read from his screen. ‘Where you call Mitchell baby,’ he laughed. ‘Baby in his towel, baby with straight hair, baby looking happy.’ He creased over laughing again as Anders blushed.

‘What’s this?’ Mitchell asked, his thumb gently stroking Anders’ hip.

‘You’re a social media star,’ Axl said.

‘Yeah, you have loads of followers actually,’ Zeb added. ‘And heaps of likes and comments. Aw, look he’s defending your honour, Mitchell!’

‘Can I see this please?’ Mitchell asked, a smile tugging at his lips as Anders’ cheeks burned.

‘Oh what? You thought nobody would find out?’ Mike laughed at Anders’ huff of annoyance.

‘I didn’t anticipate him being so popular, but I guess I should have known, I do know how sexy he is,’ Anders said airily, trying to brush it off.

Mitchell was scrolling through Anders’ phone now and shaking his head. He was distracted by a roar of laughter from Mike and Olaf.

‘Oh Anders,’ Olaf laughed. ‘He’s poetry, art and beauty! Oh Anders you sap.’ Mike was laughing too hard to speak and just shook his head in Anders’ direction.

‘I was drunk ok! Anyway a lot a people agreed.’

‘That’s sweet,’ Mitchell said laughing and drawing Anders into a hug. ‘Leave him alone, it’s really sweet.’

‘Oh, we better lay off,’ Olaf said. ‘Baby’s defending him.’ And with that they all dissolved into laughter again.

Anders endured a good half hour of ribbing as Mitchell good naturedly held his hand and laughed along. He was part mortified at being the subject of an Instagram with thousands of followers and part deeply touched, especially by the sweetness and the way Anders referred to him as baby, an endearment he never used, but in the immediate afterglow of their passion when he was still high from their love making. Mitchell’s hand was now curled possessively around Anders’ waist and squeezed every time Anders was the victim of a new jibe.

But it was light hearted enough and soon they moved on from Anders’ comments and posts to reading out the comments underneath. Mitchell was now in the kitchen talking to his mother, who was encouraging Ingrid to smoke Olaf’s weed so she could experience being stoned by proxy.

‘Here’s one,’ Axl said. ‘From Jody, is his dick as pretty as his face? Chicks these days are rude, man. And pecsguy28 says he’d lay him down on a heavenly bed of clouds, what does that even mean? Chrissy wants to have your babies.’

‘Well,’ Mike continued. ‘You have a lot of people arguing about the beard and under the one in the tux says you look as handsome as a guy she knew in the war. Who knew old dears were on Instagram. Oh there’s another, Mabel says he looks like Sean Connery and Hetty says he looks like a smiling, damned smiling villain and you’ll get yours, god people are nuts. Isn’t that from the bible?’

‘ _Hamlet_ I believe,’ Olaf said. ‘That’s Shakespeare Axl,’ he added to Axl’s puzzled look.

‘Well, you know, I’m a builder,’ Axl shrugged. ‘Oh, there’s a whole thread here going on about his chest hair, do people actually care about this stuff?’

‘On that note I’m going to leave you losers to it and go get better acquainted with the sexiest chest hair in the world as SeanyAusbum would put it.’ Anders got up with a grin, crossed the room and slid into Mitchell’s arms, leaning up to kiss him and glancing smugly over his shoulder. ‘I’m going to get so much more sex than you losers tonight,’ he mouthed at them as they continued to laugh as he flicked his middle finger at them behind Mitchell’s back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Lancette for the graphics and the contribution to Instagram fun!


End file.
